SOME  LADIES 
IN  HASTE 


ROBERT  W.  CHAMBERS 


WORKS  OF  ROBERT  W.  CHAMBERS 


THE  YOUNGER  SET 

THE  FIGHTING  CHANCE 

THE  TREE  OP  HEAVEN 

THE  TRACER  OF  LOST  PERSONS 

THE  RECKONING 

IOLE 

Cardigan  The  Conspirators 

The  Maid-at-Anns  The  Cambric  Maik 

Lorraine  The  Haunts  of  Men 

Maids  of  Paradise  Outsiders 

Ashes  of  Empire  A  Young  Man  in  a  Hurry 

Jbe  Red  Republic  Tbe  Mystery  of  Choice 

The  King  in  Yellow  In   Search  of   the   in- 

A  Maker  of  Moons  known 

A  King  and  a  Few  Dukes      In  the  Quarter 

FOR     CH I LDR  EN 

Garden-Land  Mountain-Land 

Forest-Land  Orchard-Land 

River-Land  Outdoorland 


SOME  LADIES  IN   HASTE 


"He  ...  blew  his  whole  love-smitten  soul  into  the  fife." 


SOME  LADIES 
IN  HASTE  #  % 

'By  ROBERT   W.   CHAMBERS 


D.  APPLETON   AND   COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  MCMVIII 


COPYRIGHT,  1908,  BY 

A     .  II  AMBERS 

COPYRIGHT,  1907,  BY 
I  Hi    i  (UI1S  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


Hay. 


TO  MY  FRIEND 

ARTH  UR    DILLON 

IN   MEMORY  OF  THI 

OLD    DAVs 

WHEN   NOBODY  WAS  IN 

A  HURRY 


912827 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I.— THE  MISCHIEF-MAKKR 


PACE 

I 


II.— DIANA'S  CHASE 25 

III. — AN  OVERDOSE 59 

IV.— A  REMEDY 77 

V. — A  GUILTY  MAN 102 

VI. — THE  ABSENT-MINDED  GODDESS 126 

VII. — A  LADY  IN  HASTE 162 

VIII.— ABSENT  TREATMENT 191 

IX. — Sui  GENERIS 202 

X. — Ex  MACHINA .  218 


ILLUSTRATIONS^ 


"He   .    .    .    blew    his    whole    love-smitten    soul    into    the 
fife" Frontispiece 

4" \\liat   are  you  doing  in  my  woods?1"       ....   134 

"' Sweetheart/    he   whispered    naively,   partly  because   he 

didn't  know  her  other  name" 200 

"'I  defy  you  to  make  me  do  it!'1 230 


xiii 


SOME   LADIES   IN   HASTE 


CHAPTER   I 


THE    MISCHIEF-MAKER 

ANNERS  was  waiting  as  Kel- 
vin came  in.  keeping  his  ap- 
pointment to  the  minute. 

They  greeted  each  other 
simply  and  sincerely,  and  for 
an  instant  Manners's  lean,  attractive  feature- 
lighted  up.  Then  the  expression  of  perplex- 
ity returned;  he  raised  his  glass,  rattled  the 
ice  in  it,  found  it  empty,  and  glanced  across 
at  young  Kelvin,  who  nodded. 


Some  Ladies  in  Haste 


"  Two  more,  then,"  said  Manners  to  the 
dub  servant  who  answered  the  pressure  of 
his  walking  stick  on  the  electric  button. 
And,  to  Kdvin.  "It  is  a  very  warm  morn- 
ing." lu-  remarked  politeh. 

"  It  is  more  than  \\ariu.  it  is  hot/*  observed 
Kdvin.  And.  after  a  decorous  pause:  "  You 
say  you  have  something  n«»t  entirely  agree- 
ahle  to  confide  to  me.  William' 

•*  I — well,  it  depends  on  what  you  consider 
disagreeable.  I>\  the  \\a\.  what  on  earth 
have  \ou  stuffed  into  your  coat  pockets? 
They're  all  bulging  out  of  shape." 

Kelvin  reddened  and  muttered  something 
unintelligible  ;  then,  \\ith  a  trace  of  irritation: 

"What's  this  unpleasant  matter  \<m  \\i^h 
t«»  di  I'm  rather  in  a  hurry,  William." 

Manners  gave  a  slight  start.     "CcrtainK." 

aid;  "  I  am  going  to  tell  you  the  whole 

thing.     I— I  hate  to  do  it.  but    I'll   have  to, 

<r   »>r   later,   because" — and   the  wm 
expression  came  into  his  face  again — "  be- 
eauM-  it   so   vitally  affects — ah — several  peo- 

"  Me?  "  asked  the  other  anxiously. 
Manners  produced  a  freshly  ironed  hand- 
kerchief, shook  out  the  folds,  and  picking  up 


The  Mischief -Maker 


his  single  eyeglass  from  the  string  where  it 
dangled  began  to  polish  it.  Once  or  twice 
he  held  it  up  to  squint  through  it. 

"  I'd  better  begin  at  the  beginning,  hadn't 
I  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  nonchalance  plainly  as- 
sumed. 

"  Naturally,  unless  you're  a  Chinaman," 
said  Kelvin  uneasily. 

"  Very  well,  then ;  the  whole  thing  began 
when  I  went—  He  stopped  abruptly.  "  But 
you  didn't  know  about  that,  did  you?" 

"  About  what  ?  "  snapped  Kelvin. 

"  About  where  I  went  ?  " 

"When?" 

"  Th— that  time- 

"  What  time  ?  "  demanded  Kelvin,  in  grow- 
ing apprehension.  "  Look  here,  William, 
you're  getting  on  my  nerves.  Are  you  afraid 
to  tell  me  about  this  matter  which  you  say 
concerns  me  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not  afraid — I  mean,  I'm  not  very 
much  afraid  of  you.  So  I  went  there — but 
you  didn't  know  about  that,  did  you?" 

"  Know  about  what  ?  "  demanded  the  other, 
exasperated. 

"  Why,  about  my  going  to  Dr.  Duncan's 
Sanatorium." 
2 


Some  Ladies  in  Haste 


'  No,  I  didn't.  What  did  you  go  for?" 
"I  went."  said  Manners,  "because  I  was 
smoking  too  much.  I  tried  to  break  off- 
found  it  hard,  got  several  kinds  of  fidgets,  and 
then  it  occurred  to  me  that  it  would  be  easier 
for  somebody  else  to  take  the  trouble  to  cure 
me  than  for  me  to  bother  about  curing  my- 
self. Of  course  I'd  heard  of  Dr.  Duncan. 
Everybody  has.  'Even  you  have,  haven't 
you?" 

"  Of  course,"  nuitu -red  Kelvin,  who  had 
heard  nothing  of  the  sort. 

"  \VrlI.  I'd  read  something  about  the  treat- 
ment of  disease  by  hypnotism  and  mental 
suggestion.  Everybody  is  discussing  it  these 
days,  though  it's  an  old  story  in  Europe, 
where  the  most  celebrated  scientists  have 
been  for  \r.u>  reporting  marvelous  discover- 
ies and  amazing  cures  I  I  is  rising  inflection 
made  it  a  question.  Kelvin  nodded  wisely, 
and  the  other  continued: 

You  know  how  it's  been  here  in  Amer- 
ica; fear  of  ridicule  and  hidebound  profes- 
sional conservatism  have  prevented  our  phy- 
sicians from  experimenting  or  attempting  to 
practice  it.  Duncan  is  the  only  eminent  man 
in  his  profession  who  has  been  brave  enough 


The  Mischief -Maker 


to  take  it  up.  Be  patient,  Eric ;  I'm  coming 
to  your  case  presently." 

Manners  removed  his  monocle  in  order  to 
see  more  clearly  what  expressions  were  chas- 
ing themselves  over  Kelvin's  disconcerted 
countenance. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  my  case  ? "  de- 
manded Kelvin.  "  What  have  I  to  do  with 
this  dinky  affair?" 

But  Manners  ignored  the  question  and  an 
offered  cigar  with  a  troubled  sigh,  and,  as 
Kelvin  set  fire  to  his  own  cigar,  he  went  on: 

"  Dr.  Duncan  has  worked  miracles  in  men- 
tal suggestion.  He  has  cured  the  intemper- 
ate, he  has  corrected  the  moral  equilibrium, 
made  bad  people  good,  restored  to  sanity  the 
mentally  stricken.  Think  of  that,  Eric !  " 

"I  am.    What  of  it?" 

"  This,  that,  although  he  performs  modern 
iiusteries  and  miraculous  marvels,  his  magic 
is  purely  scientific ;  he  reasons  coolly ;  he  op- 
erates with  nothing  more  occult  than  com- 
mon sense.  Clear,  cold  reason  is  Duncan's 
only  assistant.  There's  no  use  of  anybody 
shouting  *  Mountebank ! '  at  him ;  he's  one  of 
the  most  widely  known  and  most  highly  re- 
spected physicians  in  active  practice;  an  au- 


Some  Ladles  /;/   Haste 


thor  of  a  dozen  scientific  works  which  have 
IK m  crowned  by  tlu*  French  Academy  and 
praised  by  scientists  the  world  over;  a  lec- 
turer at  Oxford,  the  Sorbonne,  and  Harvard. 
And,  Eric " 

"What?" — sullenly  pu fling  his  cigar. 

"  He  not  only  cured  me  of  that  vile  habit 
of  smoking,  which  I  notice  yon  still  indulge 
in.  Imt  he  did  it  by  absent  treatment." 

You  mean  he  sat  in  his  office  and  \\.»rked 
a  sort  of  mental  rabbit  foot  on  you? — a  kind 
of  hoodoo  on  your  smoking  while  you  \\ent 
about  town  <»n  \<mr  o\\n  atTa 

44  Exactly.      I.   as   y«m  --..lied   about. 

not  concerning  myself  with  am    j»art   of   the 

num.   but    in    a   day    or  two    I    began  to 

find  that  I  didn't  like  to  smoke.     That's  \\hat 

he  did  to  me." 

"  P,\  JUM  JIM  thinking  alx)ut  you  at  so 
much  a  think;'"  asked  Kelvin  flippantly. 

"  rreei-ely.  And  1  \\as  s«  >  |ilea>e«l  that  I 
took  another  course  from  him.  That  was 
\\here  trouble  hr-an.  I  had  him  treat  me 
for  mental  vacuity.  And  l<n»k  at  me  now! 
Why,  Eric,  my  head  is  full  <»f  thoughts — 
simply  scanning  with  all  kinds  of  bright 
idea 


The  Mischief -Maker 


"  You  mean  to  say  that  he  did  this  for 
you  ?  "  jeered  Kelvin,  unconvinced. 

"  He  certainly  did,"  said  Manners  mod- 
estly. "  The  first  thing  I  noticed  I  began  to 
exhibit  faint  traces  of  intelligence.  About  a 
fortnight  later  I  had  incubated  and  hatched 
an  original  idea,  and,  when  I  had  found  that 
an  idea  or  two  relieved  the  pressure  on  the 
mental  vacuum,  I  began  to  wonder  about  all 
that  business  of  thought  transmission  and 
mental  influence,  the  same  old  thing  that  has 
been  thrashed  out  by  everybody — even  by 
\<>u,  it  appears." 

He  waved  his  monocle  and  looked  wearily 
at  Kelvin. 

"Same  old  thing,"  he  said  apologetically, 
"  but  vitally  interesting  to  me  because  I  <1 
just  been  treated.  So  I  got  some  of  Dun- 
can's books  and  read  'cm;  thought  a  little. 
\vent  and  got  some  more  books;  thought  a 
little  more,  went  to  Columbia  University  to 
hear  some  lectures " 

"  You  !  " — in  derision. 

"  Ya-as.  And  one  day,  sitting  in  this  same 
foolish  club  window,  the  knob  of  my  stick 
under  my  chin,  I  began  to  wonder  whether  I 
couldn't  do  a  few  stunts  myself — particularly 


8  Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

in  that  matter  of  mental  influence  exercised 
upon  somebody  at  a  distance.  I  thought 
what  a  help  I  might  be  to  you,  for  example." 

Kelvin  sought  his  glass  with  un>tead\    fin- 
gers.    "  Go  on,"  he  said. 

44  So,"  continued  Manners  simply.      I  tried 
it — on  several  people — various  things  on  \.m 
ous  people 

"  Friends?"  demanded  Kelvin  in  some 
citement. 

44  Some    were    friends  —  fellows     I     km  \\ 
Some    were — ah — strangers — several  pretty 
girls   whom    I   noticed   through  the   windows. 
It    was  a   bright    ^pring    morning.      I    saw  a 
number  of  agreeable  i;nU«>M  Fifth  Avenue— 
one  in  particular  curiously  resembled — ah — a 
charming  girl  I  admire  e\rredinij\ 
I  >M  NMII  mean  to  say  that  you  attempted 

infernal  mental  experiments  on 
eral  attractive  girls  \\ith  \\hom  you  have  no 
•nal  acquaintance?"  demanded  Kelvin. 
And,  as  Manners  wineed.  'Have  you  any 
reason  to  believe  you  have  succeeded  ? "  he 
insisted 

Probably — if  I  may  judge  from  what  my 
mental  experiments  are  now  doing  to  several 
men  of  my  acquaintance." 


The  Mischief-Maker 


"  W-what — what  are  you  making  them 
do?" 

"  Various  things,"  admitted  Manners,  fur- 
tively watching  his  shocked  friend.  "  I— 
well — such  personal  qualities  as  it  appeared 
to  me  they  lacked  I  attempted  to  instill  into 
them.  For  instance,  one  energetic  but  per- 
fectly commonplace  young  business  man  I 
thought  needed  an  injection  of  devil-may-care 
romance  to  leaven  him.  So  I  concentrated 
my  intellectual  processes  on  his  case ;  I  gave 
him  vigorous  absent  treatment — he  was  at  the 
Stock  Exchange  at  the  time.  He  didn't  know 
what  was  happening  to  him." 

"And  what  happened?"  said   Kelvin. 

Manners  shook  his  head :  **  You  ought  to 
see  him  now.  He's  trying  to  become  en- 
gaged to  almost  any  girl  he  meets." 

"  What !  "  cried  Kelvin,  horrified. 

Manners  looked  nervously  around,  but 
they  were  quite  alone  in  the  room.  Then  his 
glance  returned  to  his  friend : 

"  He's  quite  dippy  on  romance.  Isn't  it 
shocking?  Wants  to  wed  almost  anything  he 
encounters.  I — I  overdid  it,  you  see;  the 
treatment  was  too  vigorous.  But  I  didn't 
know;  I'd  had  no  experience.  Besides,  I 


io  Some  Ladies  in   Haste 

really  hadn't  the  faintest  notion  that  I  pos- 
sessed such  a  power;  and — and  first  1  knew 
I  found  I'd  suddenly  grasped  something  out 
of  nothing;  something  as  unexpected  as  a 
livr  \\ire!  And,  Eric,  there  I  was  amazed, 
pleased  \\ith  myself,  half  doubting,  blunder- 
ing in  my  experiments  \\ith  this  stupendous 
living  power  which  1  never  dreamed  I  pos- 
sessed  " 

"  Heavens,  William."  faltered  KeKin.  "  tin, 
is  a  murderous  confession  you  are  ni.ik 

Manner-  dipped  <»ne  lank  leg  over  the 
Other,  where  it  hung  dangling,  and,  remov- 
ing the  monocle  from  hi-  left  eye,  examined 
it  \\ith  <!• 

•  i«  »us  phase-  of  the  affair  ' 

to  be  co  i  to  you     Do  you  think  you 

can  stand  any  more.    I  • 

"I!"'  1     Kelvin    IHTVoUsly.       "Oh,/ 

can  stand  it  all  right,  hut  I'm  \\ondi-ring  how 
these  miserable  victims  of  y«»urs  are  going 
to  stand  it ! 

"So  am  I."  said  Mann.  r^.  "  I'm  Mire  I 
don't  know  what  to  do  for  them." 

"  <  an't  you  >t«.p  it 

"  Ya-as,  I  can  stop  it — that   i-.    1    can  re- 


The  Mischief -Maker  n 

frain  from  doing  anything — ah — further  in 
that  line." 

Kelvin  shuddered ;  Manners  was  aware  of 
the  spasm,  and  his  features  became  troubled. 

"  I  can,  of  course,  stop  my  experiments," 
he  went  on  slowly,  "  but  I  can't  undo  what 
I've  done— 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because,"  replied  Manners  naively,  "  I 
don't  know  how." 

"  But  what  on  earth  will  happen  to  your 
victims?"  demanded  Kelvin.  "What's  hap- 
pening to  'em  now  ?  Manners,  you've  got  to 
do  something- 
Manners  made  a  gesture  with  his  monocle. 
"Do  something?  What,"  he  asked  wearily, 
"am  I  to  do?  Tell  me  and  I'll  do  it.  I've 
tried  the  same  sort  of  thing  backward,  but 
it  won't  work.  I  don't  seem  to  be  able 
to  neutralize  or  modify  what  I've  already 
done.  I've  written  Dr.  Duncan,  but  he's  in 
Japan." 

Kelvin,  breathing  deeply,  said :  "  I  never, 
never  supposed  you  were  that  sort  of  a  man. 
You  don't  look  it,"  he  added  reproachfully. 
"  Why,  hang  it  all,  Manners,  you — you're  a 
sort  of  a — a  monster !  " 


12  Sotnc  /.</(//< \\-  /';/   Haste 

"  D-dnn't  say  that!"  protested  the  other 
thickly. 

"  I — what  dreadful  idea  possessed  yon  to 
try  to  do  such  things?  I  thought  I  knew  you 
pretty  well;  I — nobody  ever  supposed  you 
ever  had  an  original  idea.  You — you  didn't 
have  to  be  intellectual,  you  know  ;  e\er\body 

liked  \"n  \\ell  enough  as  you  were ' 

Thank-  :  n  -  very  good  of. you,"  said  Man- 
ners, despondently  staring  out  of  the  window 
into  the  brilliant  Min-hine. 

Kelvin  gazed  at  him  for  a  moment,  -t riv- 
ing to  realize  it  all,  then  hysterically  put  the 
UP  »n^  i-n«l  «»f  1,  -nto  hi^  month. 

There  \\.t-  -«>me  slight  confusion;  a  servant 
came  and  mopped  up  the  fragments  of  bro- 
ken \\lun  he  had  retired  Kelvin 
burst  nut  : 

You  tell  me  these  incredible  things  and 
I    try   to  comprehend  them,  but    it    i-   d 
nniiMial    things   to   my   nerves.      I'm    jumpy. 
William.     And  what    I  want  to  know  imme- 
diately   is    whether    \<>n've    experimented    on 
anybody  besides  that  Wall  Street  man.    7 
yo*f" 

'•  ifes/1  -aid  Mann. 

Kelvin  sank  back  in  his  chair. 


The  Mischief -Maker  13 

"  What  else  and  who  else  have  you  done  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Enough,"  said  Manners  sadly.  "  I  began 
with  a  bunch  of  five  friends  of  mine.  I  said 
to  myself,  '  You  are  good  fellows,  good  citi- 
zens, commonplace,  prevaricating,  uninmagi- 
native,  everyday  young  Americans,  nimbly 
occupied  in  acquiring  material  advantages  in 
a  material  and  sordidly  unromantic  world/ 
That's  what  I  said  to  myself,  Kelvin." 

"  And  what  did  you  do  ?  "  demanded  Kelvin 
in  an  awful  voice. 

"  Do?  Well,  I  gave  them  all  absent  treat- 
ment. I  treated  them  according  to  what  I 
thought  they  lacked.  Into  some  I  injected  a 
mad  passion  for  the  unvarnished  truth ;  into 
some  the  desire  for  adventure,  the  longing  for 
the  poetry  and  romance  of  life  and — and  Na- 
ture- 

"  Who,"  stammered  Kelvin,  "  are  these 
five  betrayed,  deluded,  defrauded,  abandoned 
friends  of  yours  ?  "  And  as  Manners  fidgeted 
and  attempted  to  screw  his  monocle  into  his 
left  eye:  "Who  are  they,  William  Manners? 
And — and  " — he  continued  shakily — "  do  I 
know*  them?  Look  at  me!  Tell  me! 
Speak !  "  he  broke  out,  squirming  in  all  the 


14  Some  Ladies  in   Haste 

torture  of  uncertainty.     "  William  !    William  ! 
Am  /  one  of  those  five  ?  " 

14  Yes,"  said  Manners  in  the  accentless  ac- 
quiescence of  despair.     "  Isn't  it  terrible?" 

For  Ti7/(//  part  have  you  picked  me?"  al- 
most shouted    Kelvin    in    his  terror  and  be- 
wilderment.    "What  have  you  turned  me  in 
to? — confound  you!     I — I  knew  darned  well 
there  was  something  wron^  \\ith  me;  1  \\«>n 
dered  \\liy  I'd  l>een  growing  panties  in  dinky 
pots   ami   ehloroforminx    butterflies  and    t< 
in-    thosr   >illy  diekex    birds   in   the   park    with 
in\      pickets     stntted     with     stale     bivad  !        I 
thought   it   might  be  softening  of  the  brain. 
and — and  it's  y//." 

"  Yes,  old  chap,"  said  Manners,  humble  in 
uilt. 

"  Well — good  lit  -a\«  us !— \\rll,  ean't  you 
turn  it  off?  Can't  yn  Mop  nie  reading  Na- 
ture I'm  writing  one,  too.  Can't  \«»n 
prevent  I  .n't  \  on  do  something?"  in 
sisted  Kelvin,  almost  besidr  himself  with  fury. 
"What  business  have  I  turning  over  stones 
to  hunt  for  beetles  and  spiders?  What  do  I 
want  to  dig  up  daisies  for  and  look  at  tin- 
useless  things  through  a  magnifying  glass? 
And  Fm  doing  it  all  the  time.  I'm  a  plain 


The  Mischief -Maker  15 

business  man ;  I  make  pulp  paper  in  bulk. 
Why,"  In  alnmst  snarled,  "  do  I  go  out  to 
thr  suburbs  and  run  about  with  a  butterfly 
net  instead  of  attending  to  my  business?  I 
like  the  city ;  I  don't  like  the  country.  But 
I  can't  keep  away  from  it !  " 

"  Is  it  ruining  you?"  asked  Manners  mis- 
erably. 

It — no,  it  isn't.  I'm  not  too  feeble-mind- 
ed to  make  a  living  in  spite  of  what  you've 
done  to  me.  But  I  tell  you,  William,  it's 
horrible  to  want  to  do  something  sensible  and 
be  unable  to  resist  an  inclination  to  go  to  the 
park  and  feed  peanuts  to  the  squirrels.  And 
besides,  I — I — there's  a  girl  I  once  saw,  .  .  . 
and  I  dorit  like  the  sort  of  girl  she  is.  ... 
And  she's  pretty  as  the  mischief.  And  she 
studies  Nature  books,  and  peeps  up  into  trees 
when  some  infernal  tomtit  begins  to  pipe  up." 

"Who  is  she?"  asked  Manners  in  despair. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  don't  want  to  know. 
She's  too  pretty  and  intellectual.  Can't  you 
make  me  stop  looking  at  her?  Can't  you 
make  her  go  away  ?  "  he  insisted,  almost  fran- 
tic. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  asked  Manners  blankly. 

"  Where  is  she  ?     I  don't  know.     But  I've 


16  Some  Ladies  in   llustc 

seen  her  several  times  when  I'm  out  in  the 
confounded  outskirts  of  civilization,  with  my 
pockets  full  of  ferns  and  forceps  and  tin 
boxes  crammed  with  caterpillars.  Think  of 
it,  William,  I,  a  decent,  respectable,  city-bred, 
city-loving  business  man ' 

He  almost  broke  do\\n  ;  Manners,  too,  was 
deeply  affected. 

"  That  girl,"  he  said  unsteadily.  "  is  prob- 
ably one  of  the  agreeable  girls  1  >a\\  through 
this  \\imli, \\.  and  whom  I  chose  for  my  ex- 
periments. I'm  awfully  sorry,  old  fellow,  but 
/  haven't  a  notion  \\lio  she  is — who  any  of 
tlum  are.  All  I  <li<l.  uhen  an  attractive  girl 
came  along,  was  to  say  to  myself :  '  Now,  you 
are  very  pretty  and  delightful  to  look  at,  but 
you  probably  think  trivial  thoughts  most  of 
the  time,  and  you  have  been  brought  up  with 
false  notions  of  the  world.  Go  out  and  see 
tin-  sun  HM  !  Go  listen  to  the  speckled  t««m 
tit !  Get  busy  \\ith  Nature  and  the  living  ro- 
mance of  the  free  world!  You  dance  too 
much  :  you  cultivate  too  assiduously  the  com- 
paratively unimportant.  Be  a  real  girl — a 
charming,  frank,  natural,  fearless,  disinterest- 
ed, intelligent  girl.  Give  yourself  the  sensa- 
tion of  an  original  idea.  Take  an  interest  in 


The  Mischief-Maker  17 

the  resources  of  those  simpler  pleasures  now 
banned  as  obsolete  by  a  fretted,  pampered, 
overambitious,  and  intellectually  degenerate 
society  where  wealth  is '  " 

"  William  !  " 

"  What  ?  "  he  asked  guiltily. 

"  If — if  you've  done  all  that  to  those  young 
girls  you've  done  a  terrible  thing!  " 

"Why?" 

"  BecaiiM  ynu'vi'  filK  (1  their  heads  with  un- 
conventional notions.  You  make  'em  want 
to  go  and  be  dryads  in  the  Bronx  and  \\V-t 
Chester.  And  they  can't  be  unless  they  trans- 
gress every  law  and  rule  of  feminine  training 
and  bringing  up.  How  can  they?  These 
hothouse  exotics,  brought  up  under  glass  in 
the  only  foreign  city  in  the  United  States; 
these  pretty  heiresses  of  vulgar  millions 
whose  notions  of  the  country  are  limited  to 
macadamized  roads  and  a  touring  car,  whose 
aspirations  are  to  dominate  and  sit  lightly 
enthroned  on  the  spindrift  of  the  social 
surf —  He  broke  off,  furious  with  him- 
self for  his  own  flow  of  metaphor.  "  You 
see !  "  he  cried,  mad  all  through,  "  your  ab- 
sent treatment  makes  me  talk  like  an  ac- 
cursed literary  thing,  and  not  like  a  man,  a 


i8  Spine  Ladies  in   Ifu 

paper  manufacturer,  and  a  voter!  William, 
this  is  a  vile,  vile  business.  Within  me.  Nell- 
ing  up,  I  feel  unsuspected  springs  of  p«»etr\. 
Confound  it,  I  can't  even  think  in  decent. 
self-respecting  English.  I  cogitate  in  rhythm  ; 
I  become  loquacious  in  alliteration.  I'm  not 
m\  self.  1  haven't  been  for  a  month.  And, 
look  now  !  I  haven't  anything  to  do  to-day; 
I  ought  to  sit  here  for  a  while  like  a  human 
hcintf.  then  play  a  i^ame  or  two  of  billiards, 
then  lunch  c«  >mt"<  n'tably  upstairs,  then  take  a 
drive  in  my  new  six-cylinder  tourer,  then 
dress  and  go  to  see  the  right  sort  of  woman 
—or  go  to  a  good  play — then  come  here  for 
a  cocktail  and  a  rubber,  then — O  Lord! — 
and  n«>\\  look  at  me!  I.wk!" 

And  he  pulled  from  his  bulging  poci 
a   lot   of  bottles   and   boxes  and   notebooks 
crowded   with  o!  Hi  upon  the  nesting 

habits  of  the  speckled  titmouse.  "And  the 
\\<»rst  is  that  I'm  now  going,  William,  going 
out  to  chase  butterflies,  and  rush  eagerly  after 
every  thousand-legged  thing  that  wriggles 
and  crawls.  And  I'm  in  a  hurry,  too.  Isn't 
that  the  limit?  I'm  actually  impatient  to  be 
off,  getting  my  shoes  muddy  and  burs  all 
over  me.  I  don't  want  to  like  that  girl  I 


The  Mischief -Maker  19 

sometimes  see  doing  the  same  thing,  and  I'm 
afraid  I'm  getting  to  like  to  look  at  her. 
William!  William!  Can't  you  do  anything 
forme?" 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Manners  earnestly, 
"  that  it's  like  some  dreadful  dream — all  this 
that  I've  somehow  managed  to  do?  I  can't 
really  believe  it ;  I'm  palsied  by  it.  I  try  to 
undo  it  by  negative  absent  treatment.  But 
it  doesn't  seem  to  work.  Tell  me,  Kelvin,  do 
— do  you  notice  any  amelioration  of  your 
condition  when  I  fix  my  mind  on  you,  and 
give  you  negative  absent  treat " 

"  Let  me  alone ! "  almost  yelled  Kelvin. 
"  Don't  you  dare  try  am  thing  more;  do  you 
hear?  I'm  bad  enough  as  I  am,  and  if  you 
experiment  further  you  may  turn  me  into 
almost  anything !  " 

For  a  moment  the  two  men  faced  each 
other — two  well-dressed,  well-built,  attract- 
ive young  fellows,  confronting  one  another 
in  a  corner  of  one  of  the  most  exclusively 
fashionable  of  the  junior  clubs  in  New 
York. 

And  as  they  stared  into  each  other's  eyes 
the  situation  seemed  too  impossible,  too  ab- 
surdly grotesque  to  be  real.  Here,  in  the 
3 


20  Sonic  Ladles  in   llustc 

daylight  of  the  twentieth  century,  within  a 
stone's  throw  of  Broadway ;  here,  in  all  the 
garish,  unshadowed  glare  of  Fifth  Avenue, 
in  the  most  modern,  most  matter-of-fact  of 
metropolitan  centers,  uhere  no  inhabitant 
admitted  romance  could  exist  either  in  the 
city's  magnificence  or  in  its  degraded  squal- 
or; where  the  only  romance  understood  was 
the  ni-cr.  >maiu-\  .»!  \\eallh  and  the  manipula- 
tion of  it  ! 

Powerless,  inert.  Manners  sank  back  into 
In-  chair.  Kelvin  caM  one  withering  glance 
upon  his  collated  friend,  thru.  Mulling  bot- 
tles, boxes,  ami  notebooks  into  his  pockets, 
rose,  crammed  the  slra\\  hat  firmly  over  his 
and  turned  toward  the  d< 

"  \\'- \\lu- re     are     \  on     g-goir  gasped 

Main 

"Into  the  country — dammit!"  snarled 
Kelvin,  pan-in-  to  turn  up  his  carefully 
creased  tn «u 

"Ericl     I  )on't  go." 

How    can    I    help   it?     Do  you   think    I 

7C<//I/   tO   gO?" 

iall  I  detain  \<ni  1>\  v-violence  ? " 
asked  Manners  anxiously  ;  '*  shall  I  hold  you, 
Eric 


The  Mischief -Maker  21 

"  If  you  do  I'll  probably  knock  your  head 
off." 

"  But  think — think  of  the  danger  of  b-being 
stung  by  bees." 

"  I  do— or  by  that  girl." 

"  Heavens,  Eric !  Don't — don't  be  beguiled 
into  wedlock." 

"  Oh,  it's  all  very  well  for  you  to  tell 
me  such  things  —  now\  Anvthing's  likely 
to  happen;  I  may  be  attacked  by  a  tad- 
pole or  chased  by  a  frog  or  bitten  by  that 
confounded  tomtit.  But  I've  got  to  go,  all 
the  same." 

Manners  sprang  forward  to  seize  him,  but 
Kelvin  became  violent.  They  stood  there, 
confronting  one  another,  breathing  hard. 
Then  : 

"  Me  for  the  Bronx,"  said  Kelvin  sullenly. 
"  Leggo !  "  And  he  disappeared  through  the 
portals  of  the  Lenox  Club. 

Manners  observed  his  friend's  departure 
with  profound  discouragement.  Matters  were 
not  very  well  with  him  these  days ;  things 
had  begun  to  go  wrong  in  several  ways  ever 
since  that  accursed  day  when,  idling  at  this 
very  window,  he  had,  without  expecting  suc- 
cess, ventured  to  attempt  a  mental  influence 


22  Some  Lcnlics  in  Haste 

on  the  first  five  attractive  and  unsuspicious 
maidens  who  blew  breezily  by  through  the 
pale  April  sunshine. 

How  could  he  doubt  that  IK-  had  vitall) 
influenced  them,  judging  from  the  cataclys- 
mic effect  of  his  experiments  on  hi-  UK  ml 
Kelvin?  Alas!  \\hat  had  he  driven  these  in- 
nocent victims  into — what  mad  escapades, 
\\hat  mischief,  what  irrational,  unconventional 
situations ! 

Miseralily.  e\er\  morning  and  evening,  he 
scanned  the  nexx  sj.ap,  i  -.  fearfnl  lest  he  come 
upon  some  ca>ualt\  \\hich  he  must  reo>L 

lie  dreadful  result  «»f  his  outrageous  ex- 
periments.    Kvcry  time  am    feminine  individ- 
ual did  anything  reprehensible  and  the  p.v 
reported  it.   Manners  p.. red  over  the  account 
in  ni^i  mixed  douht. 

But  so  far  he  had  not  his  «,\\n 

responsibility  in  the  police  report!  of  the  mis 
deeds  of  the   frail  and   fair. 

The    greater   part    of   his    K-JMire    \\as    em 
ployed    in    a    vigorous    mental    endeavor    to 
reverse    and    nullify    the    mental  tions 

\\hich  no  'doubt  had  worked  marvelous 
change  in  half  a  dozen  guileless  young  girls ; 
the  remainder  of  his  leisure  was  taken  up 


The  Mischief -Maker  23 

with  vain  attempts  to  obtain  an  interview 
with  the  very  charming  and  agreeably  friv- 
olous girl  to  whom  he  had  been  engaged— 
was  still  engaged  to,  as  he  understood  it. 
Yet  now,  for  nearly  three  months,  he  had 
failed  to  obtain  from  her  more  than  the  brief- 
est replies  to  his  notes,  and  only  the  most 
fugitively  formal  interviews  with  her  in  the 
presence  of  her  family,  or  at  some  crowded 
function  or  other.  And  he  was  becoming 
deathly  tired  of  it. 

So  that  afternoon,  beautifully  arrayed,  he 
sauntered  up  Fifth  Avenue  for  the  purpose  of 
bestowing  his  society  upon  her.  She  lived  at 
present  with  a  doddering  aunt,  IHT  parent  ^ 
being  in  Europe.  And  IK*  had  welcomed  the 
situation  with  pleasure  at  tir-t  ;  yet,  strangely 
enough,  ever  since  her  parents  had  -ailed,  he 
not  only  had  received  no  replies  to  notes  and 
telephone  calls,  but  he  had  never  been  able 
to  find  her  at  home,  and  her  decrepit  aunt 
never  seemed  to  be  able  to  furnish  him  with 
any  adequate  explanation. 

So  he  was  very  serious  and  nervous  and 
preoccupied  when  he  rang  the  bell  at  her 
door  that  afternoon,  and  when  the  servant  at 
the  door  informed  him,  as  usual,  that  she  was 


24  Some  l.udics  in   Haste 

not  at  home,  a  violent  desire  to  yell  possessed 
him. 

Baffled,  restless,  apprehensive,  nerves  on 
edge,  he  returned  to  the  Lenox  Club. 

If  she  doesn't  stop  this  sort  of  thing — if 
she  doesn't  behave   more  appreciatively  to- 
ward me,"  he  muttered,  "I — I'll  try  a  litiK- 
absent  treatment.     I'll  give  that  ama 
just  one  more  chance  at  me,  just  om  !  " 

And  as  he  looked  gloomily  out  of  tlu  club 
window  he  thought  of  his  awful  power,  and 
shuddered. 


CHAPTER    II 


DIANA  S   CHASE 

1HERE  rolls  the  Bronx  athwart 
the  suburban  solitudes  of 
Westchester,  the  traditional 
pedestrian  might  have  been 
perceived  pursuing  an  erratic 
and  eccentric  course  cross  lots,  and  any  regu- 
larly enrolled  member  of  any  rural  constabu- 
lary might  have  been  pardoned  for  slinking 
after  him  and  hiding  behind  trees  to  peep  out 
at  him,  so  suspicious  were  his  movements,  so 
furtive,  so  singularly  and  utterly  devoid  of 
suburban  and  common  sense. 
25 


26  Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

The  classical,  isolated  pedestrian  \\a-  1\<  1 
vin  ;  tin  boxes  were  slung  about  his  person, 
drooping  fronds  of  uprooted  fun-  waved 
pendent  from  his  coat  pockets ;  in  one  hand  he 
carried  a  burlap  bag  containing  captured  gar- 
ter snakes  ;  in  the  otlu  r  lu  brandished  a  green 
gauze  bnturlly  net;  and  all  over  his  straw 
hat  were  stuck  defunct  butterflies  impaled  on 
pin-. 

In  his  thumbs  were  briers ;  upon  his  shoes 
a  deposit  of  good,  thick  WestchesU  r  mud. 
Some  co\l\  plaxful  thorn  had  attrmpu-d  to 
detain  him  by  the  broad  u  1  »  \panse 

of  his  trousers;  thru,  plucking  him  by  the 
elbow,  had  \indhti\rl\  ^ivcii  him  a  parting 
scratch  across  the  nose. 

However,  it  \\a-  rvidi-nt  that  hr  didn't 
care.  Unslaked  rutlm-ia-m  Imnu-d  in  hi- 
as  he  laboriously  turmd  mer  Hat  stom-s  in 
search  of  beetles  and  pursued  them  on  all 
fours  as  they  fled  through  the  grass.  Now 
he  explored  the  shallows  of  the  Bronx  for 
aquatic  insects.  Now  he  playfully  pounced 
upon  a  demented  tadpole ;  anon  he  gamboled 
in  the  wake  of  some  fast-flying  dragon  fly, 
net  aloft,  boisterously  excited. 

And  all  the  while  he  was  astounded  at  his 


Diana's  Chase  27 

own  behavior,  ashamed,  indignant  with  him- 
self as  he  crawled  or  squatted  or  careered 
about  the  landscape.  And  all  the  while  he 
kept  one  curious  and  furtive  eye  upon  a  mod- 
erately distant  figure  on  the  other  bank  of 
the  Bronx — the  figure  of  a  young  girl  who 
moved  leisurely  about,  a  butterfly  net  bal- 
anced across  her  shoulders,  a  pair  of  field 
glasses  slung  to  swing  at  her  hip. 

Askance  he  could  see  her  very  plainly 
across  the  water,  an  attractive,  fresh-skinned, 
dark-eyed  maid  in  a  most  distractingly  pretty 
summer  gown. 

She  had  pinned  her  straw  hat  to  her  gown, 
where  it  hung  against  the  other  hip,  balan- 
cing the  field  glasses;  her  skirts  were  short, 
her  free-limbed  unconscious  stride  revealed 
small  tan  shoes  and  agreeable  ankles. 

Whether  or  not  she  was  aware  of  his  pres- 
ence he  could  not  determine,  for  she  never 
appeared  to  look  at  him,  which  was  sufficient 
to  convince  any  cynical  outsider  like  you  or 
me. 

At  moments  she  paused,  head  on  one  side, 
eyes  aloft,  listening  rapturously  to  the  com- 
plicated song  of  the  speckled  tomtit.  At  mo- 
ments she  gazed  pensively  into  the  depths  of 


28  Sonic   /.(/<//V.\-  /;/   Haste 

the  Bronx — almost  six  inches  deep  in  places 
— as  though  monsters  lurked  there  in  aque- 
ous profundity.  Several  times  she  ran  light- 
footed  after  the  glittering  dragon  flies  that 
sailed  and  drifted  along  the  reedy  reaches  un- 
der the  willows. 

When  she  captured  a  specimen  she  applied 
chloroform  to  its  nose,  then  sedately  impaled 
it  upon  a  pin. 

And  all  the  while  Kelvin  prowled,  pretend- 
ing not  to  see  her;  and  all  the  while  she  ap- 
peared oblivious  to  him. 

He  muttered  to  himself:  "  I  don't  want  to 
look  at  her,  but  I  can't  help  it.  Why  dor -n't 
she  go  somewhere  else  and  chase  dragon 
flies?  .  .  .  Besides,  she's  trespassing  on  my 
<>\\n  i-Mllrriing  ground;  I  discovered  this  God- 
forsaken region  first.  I  have  first  right  to 
this  place.  Sooner  or  later  we'll  both  stum- 
ble on  something  rare  and  valuable,  and 
therell  be  a  dispute  about  it ;  there'll  be 
trouble,  sure " 

He  broke  off  short;  speech  failed  him;  hi< 
tongue  clove  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth.  For 
there,  fluttering  lazily  above  the  \\ater.  mid- 
way between  him  and  the  young  girl  on  the 
opposite  bank,  appeared  a  butterfly. 


Diana's  Chase  29 

It  was  not  a  particularly  handsome  butter- 
fly ;  not  apparently  an  insect  to  cause  such 
instant  and  amazing  symptoms  of  vital  ex- 
citement in  two  young  people ;  it  was  a  mod- 
erate-sized, smoky-tinted  specimen  with  a 
glimmer  of  deep  blue  playing  over  the  sheen 
of  the  rapidly  moving  wings. 

But  as  the  two  young  people  became  si- 
multaneously aware  of  the  creature,  two 
green  gauze  butterfly  nets  were  whipped 
aloft,  two  symmetrical  pairs  of  legs  wen 
stantly  set  in  motion,  two  madly  desirous 
hearts  beat  as  one,  two  souls  harbored  the 
same  traditional  thought. 

The  butterfly,  whose  name  happened  to  be 
Argynnis  Diana,  though  she  didn't  suspect  it, 
flew  gayly  along  above  the  little  river,  up- 
stream, and  impartially  midway  between  the 
two  banks. 

Along  the  east  bank  ran  the  girl,  gracefully 
fleet,  head  turned,  dark  eyes  following  the  in- 
sect, which  darted  on  just  out  of  reach  of  her 
net ;  on  the  west  bank  galloped  Kelvin,  his 
tin  paraphernalia  flopping  and  jingling,  net 
in  the  air,  terribly  excited  at  his  first  sight 
of  the  great  Southern  Diana  fritillary,  whose 
presence  in  New  York  State  had  never  before 


30  Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

been  recorded  even  by  a  popular  writer  of 
fiction. 

As  for  the  big  clouded  Diana,  flashin. 
hint  of  royal  azure  with  every  beat  of  her 
>tn»ng,  fleet  wings,  she  settled  down  to  lead 
those  two  young,  ardent  souls  a  chase  wor- 
thy of  the  goddess  after  whom  she  had  been 
christened. 

First  she  swung  across  to  the  east  hank, 
where  the  girl  instantly  put  on  three  speeds 
forward,  chasing  her  \\ith  skirts  a-tlutter  and 
flashing  hecK. 

Diana  turned;  it  \\as  almost  useless  hut 
the  girl  attempted  a  mid-air  net  stroke  and 
missed;  and  the  butterfly  whirled  upward  in 
alarm,  flitting  on  slanting  wings  across  to 
the  west  bank. 

Kelvin    fancied    he    heard    a    faint.    l>n>l 
hearted    exclamation.  !\     more    than    a 

quick  indrawn  breath,  but  he  had  no  tini 
si  ntimental  inquiry;   Diana  swept  across  his 
arc   of   vision;   he   leaped    forward,   net   aloft, 
running   warily,    alert    for   the    psychological 
second  which  might  give  him  his  opportunity. 

And,  as  he  ran,  he  was  aware  that  across 
the  water  the  girl  was  speeding  over  ferns 
and  turf,  keeping  pace  with  him,  a  mix- 


liana's  Chase  31 

ture  of  determination  and  despair  in  her 
brown  eyes,  yet  prepared  for  any  accident 
which  might  give  her  another  chance  at  the 
flying  Diana. 

So  they  ran;  and  it  was  evident  that  they 
both  must  have  been  in  excellent  physical 
condition,  for  the  pace  was  fast  and  the  sun 
was  bright,  and  it  was  no  boulevard  they  fol- 
lowed over  the  uneven  country  broken  with 
clumps  of  bushes,  fern,  rocks,  and  fences. 

As  for  the  fences,  the  girl  took  them  like 
a  slim  thoroughbred ;  over  went  her  net  first, 
then  she  went  over;  how,  she  never  after- 
wards understood — but  over  she  went,  picked 
up  her  net,  and  on  again  with  tan-shod  feet 
flying. 

Once  Kelvin  came  a  cropper ;  and  as  he  fell 
his  tin  collecting  boxes  banged  and  dinned  so 
that  his  fall  resembled  the  fall  of  the  White 
Knight;  and  the  girl  smothered  a  half-hys- 
terical laugh  and  tried  to  keep  her  brown 
eyes  on  the  butterfly. 

But  Kelvin  was  off  again,  and  so  near  to 
the  fleeing  Diana  that  he  made  a  net  stroke, 
and  missed. 

Instantly  the  butterfly  veered,  dashed  mad- 
ly through  the  sunshine,  up,  up,  over  the  top 


32  Some  Ladies  in   Haste 

of  a  maple  tree,  then  swiftly  descended  once 
more  to  the  east  bank  of  the  stream.  And 
Kelvin  groaned,  but  ran  on. 

Now  his  rival,  the  fleet-footed  racer  of  the 
east  bank,  had  caught  her  second  breath. 
The  sun  glinted  on  her  curly  brown  hair  ami 
in  the  depths  of  IHT  dark  eyd  as  she  sprang 
forward,  brandish in^  her  net  for  the  stroke 
that  she  had  so  long  awaited.  Nearer  and 
nearer  her  flying  feet  brought  her  to  Diana, 
\\lio,  low  fixing,  uas  fluttering  scarce  ten 
paces  forward. 

Nearer  and  nearer  drew  the  flushed  pur- 
suer; Krlviii  set  Ins  teeth  in  de>pair  as  the 
green  net  >\\ept  level ;  then  he  could  have 
yelled  in  his  excitement,  for  Diana,  avoiding 
the  stroke,  dipped  sideways  in  mid-air,  and 
whirled  across  the  water  in  an  ecstasy  of 
fright,  straightaway  in  front  of  him. 

Now  it  meant  a  long,  grim,  dogged  test 
of  endurance  before  he  could  hope  for  an- 
other chance. 

The  butterfly  was  thoroughly  alarmed,  : 
ing  tirelessly  forward  across  the  country,  and 
Kelvin  settled  down  into  a  determined  trot. 
confident  at  any  rate  that  his  neighbor  across 
the  stream  had  come  to  her  last  ditch. 


Diana's  Chase  33 

But,  after  a  moment  or  two,  out  of  the 
corner  of  his  eye  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  flut- 
tering skirts ;  and,  astonished  and  slightly 
chagrined,  he  observed  her  askance,  forg- 
ing lightly  ahead  into  his  range  of  vision, 
pretty  face  flushed,  hair  undisciplined,  the 
green  net  aloft  and  floating  in  the  summer 
wind. 

At  first  he  was  irritated;  then  her  gallant 
and  silent  courage  touched  him,  and  he  want- 
ed to  turn  and  call  across  the  water  to  her 
and  tell  her  that  she'd  probably  be  ill  if  she 
didn't  stop.  But  he  had  no  breath  to  do  so ; 
no  time,  no  opportunity  to  turn.  Diana  was 
flying  fast,  and  he  had  all  he  could  do  to 
keep  her  in  view. 

There  was  a  little  grove  of  trees  just  ahead 
where  the  river  narrowed  and  made  a  sudden 
bend.  If  Diana  got  among  the  trees  he'd 
probably  lose  sight  of  her;  if  Diana  went  over 
the  treetops  she'd  cross  to  the  east  bank 
again,  and  that  swift-limbed  rival  of  his  would 
probably  get  her  this  time. 

Spurred  into  one  last  frantic  dash,  Kelvin 
shot  forward  and  fairly  ran  the  butterfly 
down ;  but  Diana  darted  under  his  net, 
mounted  straight  up  among  the  leaves,  and 


34  Some  Ladles  In  Ilustc 

vanished.  And,  though  Kelvin  ran  about  dis- 
tractedly hither  and  thither,  he  could  not  espy 
his  I  )iana  of  tin-  Ilronx. 

And  after  he  had  run  round  and  round  the 
outside  of  the  clump  of  trees  and  had  can- 
tered up  and  down  the  open  fields  beyond, 
he  st«><,,l  -till,  gasping  for  breath  until  his 
breath  came  hack  into  his  lun^s.  Then,  wild- 
1  but  alert,  he  stride  into  the  clump  of 
trees  av^ain.  And  here  lu-  became  aware  of 
his  rival,  Hushed,  breathless,  rhanningly  di- 
sheveled, sitting  upon  a  mossy  stone,  eyes 
persixtnitl)  ii\i-d  on  the  top  1  of  a  tall 

oak  t 

Her  slender  tanned  \\rists  \\i-re  bare,  her 
sleeves  pushed  back  to  her  elbows;  and  she 
sat,  clasping  her  knees  in  her  hands,  rhin  up- 
tilted,  delicate  nose  in  the  air.  the  green  but 
tertly   net   across  her  lap. 

Kelvin,  breathing  hard,  looked  up,  too. 
He  saw  nothing  but  golden-green  leaves 
and  branches  and  the  blue  sky  between. 
Then  he  looked  at  the  girl,  then  up  in  the 
air,  then  at  the  girl,  then  up  into  the  tree 
again. 

Evidently  the  butterfly  had  alighted  some- 
where high  in  that  oak  tree,  and  she  had  seen 


Diana's  Chase  35 

it  and  had  taken  the  river  at  a  single  jump 
where  it  narrowed  among  the  trees. 

This  was  the  limit.  She  had  not  only  had 
the  bad  taste  to  chase  his  butterfly,  but  now 
she  had  come  over  into  his  territory  to  con- 
tinue her  flagrant  conduct. 

He  said,  speaking  firmly  and  aloud :  "  I 
wonder  where  my  butterfly  went." 

The  intruder  appeared  not  to  notice  him. 
She  continued  to  clasp  her  knees  in  her  hands 
and  look  up  into  the  tree. 

Kelvin  looked  up  again,  and  continued 
looking  until  his  neck  ached.  Then  he 
glanced  defiantly  at  the  girl  and  sat  down. 
Presently  he  forced  a  pleasant  smile. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  cheerfully, 
and  with  a  note  of  surprise  in  his  voice,  as 
though  for  the  first  time  that  day  he  had 
noticed  her  presence  in  Westchester.  "  I  am 
wondering  whether  by  any  chance  you  ob- 
served a  butterfly  around  this  vicinity — be- 
longing to  me  ?  " 

She  permitted  him  a  slow,  disdainful  sweep 
of  her  eyes. 

"  I   have  seen   several   butterflies   to-day," 
she   said.      "  It   did   not    occur  to   me   they 
might  belong  to  anybody." 
4 


36  Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

"  This  one — the  one  I  have  been  chasing 
—is  a  dusky  bluish  one/'  he  ventured.  I 
really  must  secure  that  specimen  ;  it's  quite 
necessary  for  my  rather  important  collection. 
So  I  wondered  whether  1>\  any  chance  \»u 
happened  to  notice  such  a  butterih." 

She  remained  silent. 

He  repeated  his  question. 

"  Yes,  I  saw  it,"  she  said,  flushing  up. 
"You  know  perfectly  well  that  I  sau  it 

"Where  is  it  now?M  he  asked,  ro Liming 
in  his  turn. 

"  I  do  not  see  why  I  should  answer  that 
question,"  she  said  with  M  If-posses- 

sion. 

"  Why — why,  I've  just  explained  to  you. 
That  is  Diana's  butterfly — a  tremendously 
rare  one.  Never  before  has  anybutU  ->< -en 
it  flying  north  of  Virginia.  And,  of  course, 
as  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  discover  it — 
it's — so  to  speak — my  butterth." 

"  I  think,"  she  said  resolutely.  "  that  1  was 
fortunate  in  seeing  it  before  you — before  ;t 
body  else  noticed  it.    Under  that  impre»i«»n." 
she  added  coldly,  "  I  was  at  some  pains  and 
inconvenience  to  follow  it." 

"  Pains !  "    he    repeated ;    "  inconvenience ! 


Diana's  Chase  37 

I  may  say  that  for  myself.  Of  course,  no 
doubt  you  supposed  that  you  first  discov- 
ered it- 

"  I  know  I  did." 

"  I  do  not  question  the  sincerity  of  your 
belief,  but,  as  it  happens,  it  was  I  who  first 
discovered  it— 

"  I  cannot  admit  that,"  she  retorted  with  a 
quaver  in  her  voice. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  he  said  patiently,  "  but  it's 
a  fact.  And  I  would  not  press  the  point  or 
insist  if  this  butterfly  were  not  so  unusual — 
if  the  occurrence  of  this  insect  was  not  abso- 
lutely unique  in  this  latitude." 

"  I  don't  see,"  she  said,  with  another  little 
catch  in  her  voice,  "  why  that  makes  any 
difference." 

Kelvin  spoke  impressively: 

"  It  makes  this  difference :  if  it  were  a  com- 
mon or  even  a  rare  specimen  indigenous  to 
Westchester,  I,  being  a  man,  would  naturally 
yield  it  to  you.  But  this  butterfly  is  too  im- 
portant to  decorate  the  collection  of  a  mere 
amateur;  science  knows  no  sex — or  courtesy 
to  sex.  It  is  important  to  science  and  to  the 
world  that  this  specimen  of  Argynnis  Diana 
should  be  procured  and  safely  cared  for  by 


38          Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

some  man  who,  like  myself,  is  prepared  to 
abandon  the  hideously  commercial  pursuits 
he  has  hitherto  blindly  indulged  in,  and  de- 
vote the  remainder  of  an  all-too-brief  career 
to  the  exacting  demands  of  scien 

When  he  had  delivered  himself  of  this,  he 
paused  to  recover  his  breath  and  observe  the 
effect  on  IKT. 

She  sat  with  head  obstinate!)  lowered,  eyes 
bent  on  the  moss  at  her  feet  ;  but  she  offered 
no  answer,  no  concession. 

"  Will  \ou  tell  me  where  that  butterth   -, 
he  asked.     "  I  don't  <K>ire  to  appear  selfish." 

'   You  do  appear  so." 

"  I  don't  mean  to— 

"  It — it  will  be  a  hideous  disappointment 
to  me  if  I  lose  that  butterflx."  she  said.  1 
—I  simply  ean't  endure  the  thought  of  it. 
The  idea  of — of  anybody  taking  it  away  from 
me!" 

"  In  the  interest  of  science/'  he  began,  but 
she  shook  her  head. 

"  I  can't  help  it ;  I  like  the  color  of  that 
butterfly,  and  1  want  to  place  it  in  my  collec- 
tion. I  " — she  looked  up  hopefully — "  I  have 
a  very  pretty  collection — all  kinds  and  col- 


Diana's  Chase  39 

"  That's  very  praiseworthy,"  he  explained ; 
"  but  science  is  different.  You  merely  want 
pretty  things  in  cases  to  decorate  a  mantel 
or " 

"Of  course  I  do!" 

"  Very  well ;  then  catch  a  lot  of  everyday 
butterflies.  I — I'll  help  you  if  you  wish." 

"  No,  I  don't  wish  it — thank  you." 

"  As  you  please.  Only  you  surely  must 
recognize  the  importance  of  my  securing  this 
particular— 

*'  I  do  not  recognize  it." 

There  was  a  pause. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  where  that  butterfly  is?  " 

No  answer. 

"  Is  it  up  in  that  oak  tree  ?  " 

No  reply. 

He  looked  at  her,  but  her  pretty  head 
was  averted.  Then  an  obstinate  expression 
came  over  his  features ;  he  sat  down  on 
the  dead  leaves  about  ten  feet  away  from 
her. 

For  a  while  he  busied  himself  with  arrang- 
ing his  specimens;  first  he  unslung  the  bag 
of  garter  snakes,  peeped  into  the  neck  of  it, 
drew  the  string  tight,  and  placed  it  on  the 
grass. 


40  Some  Ladies  in   l/asfc 

Askance  the  girl  watched  tlu-  l>ai;.  shiver- 
ing slightly  when  the  limp  folds  undulated 
with  the  wriggling  reptiles  inside. 

Then  Kelvin  spread  out  his  fern-,  wrapped 
up  their  roots  in  damp  eloth,  and  squinted  at 
the  fronds  through  a  pocket  ina^nifx  ing  glass. 
After  that  he  removed  his  hat,  unpinned  tin- 
butterflies,  and  placed  the  speeimens.  wings 
closed  over  their  hacks,  in  little  three-cor- 
nered paper  envelopes.  These  he  packed 
carefully  into  a  flat  tin  box  which  was  slung 
over  his  should* 

He  had  a  few  grcwsome  caterpillars  ;  these 
he  counted  and  secured  in  another  l»o\ 
punched  full  of  holes.  \n<  r  that  he  emptied 
his  pockets  of  the  remaining  .  placed 

each  in  its  proper  receptacle,  and,  duty  fin- 
ished, looked  around  inquiringly  at  his  neigh- 
bor. 

She  appeared  to  be  immersed  in  a  study  of 
the  top  branches  of  the  oak;  he  strove  to 
make  out  which  particular  leaf  she  was  gaz- 
ing at,  having  no  doubt  in  his  mind  that  I  )i- 
ana,  wings  folded,  hung  there  clasping  the 
leaf  with  delicate  limbs. 

It  was  like  looking  for  a  needle  in  a  hay- 
stack, for,  unless  he  had  seen  the  butterfly 


Diana's  Chase  41 

alight,  it  seemed  utterly  impossible  to  find  it 
up  there  among  a  million  leaves. 

He  studied  the  foliage  until  he  grew  pee- 
vish. Then,  suddenly,  he  remembered  that 
over  his  left  shoulder  he  carried  a  game  bag 
full  of  alluring  luncheon.  His  entire  phys- 
ical being  yearned  for  it.  So  first  of  all  he' 
went  to  the  river,  washed  his  hands,  and 
returned. 

Very*  methodically  he  produced  a  large, 
freshly  ironed  handkerchief  and  spread  it  out 
on  the  moss.  Upon  this  he  placed  several 
species  of  nourishing  sandwiches,  some  fruit, 
and  a  patent  cooler  full  of  spring  water. 

The  girl  resolutely  watched  the  hidden  Di- 
ana, yet,  at  moments,  her  brown  eyes  stole 
toward  the  single  glass  of  water  which  he 
had  poured. 

"  Now,"  he  said  coolly,  "  it  being  impossi- 
ble for  us  both  to  eat  together,  I  will  take 
your  place  on  watch  while  you  lunch." 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  "but  I  shall  not 
tell  you  where  my  Diana  is  hiding." 

"  That  is  not  necessary,"  he  said.  "  If  any- 
thing attempts  to  fly  out  of  that  oak  tree  I 
can  see  it.  Til  simply  keep  my  eye  on  the 
tree." 


42  Sonic   I.mHis   in    llustc 

She  declined  with  a  shake  of  her  head,  but 
thanked  him. 

"  Then  I'll  bring  something  to  you " 

"Please  don't!" 
I  must — if  I  am  to  c 

"  I — I  don't  care  for  anything." 

"  But  I  can't  sit  there  and  stuff  myself  all 
alone." 

She  smiled  faintly,  glancing  askance  at  tin- 
glass  of  wat 

You  are  a  generous  rival,     she  said.        I 
— I  really  am  perishing  for  a  sip  of  water." 

He  brought  tin-  glass  to  her. 

"Have  you  plcntx  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"Plentv. 

She  drank  a  little  slowly,  and  while  she 
was  drinking  he  lni<l  his  game  bag  acr<»xx  hn 
knees.  On  the  flat  leather  was  a  clean  sheet 
of  note  paper  from  hi>  held  book,  and  on  this 
paper  he  placed  some  lettuce  and  chicken 
sandwiches,  two  pears,  and  three  peaches. 

She  handed  him  the  glass  of  water,  demur- 
ring, but  as  he  refused  to  touch  food  unless 
she  did,  she  finally  began,  daintily. 

"  I  had  some  luncheon — the  packet  slipped 
out  of  my  collecting  box  when  I  \\a-  \\a- 
going  over  a  fence,"  she  explained. 


Diana's  Chase  43 

"  And  you  didn't  stop  to  recover  it  ?  " 

"  Stop?  For  a  thing  like  that?  "  she  asked 
disdainfully. 

"  Well,  that  is  rather  plucky  of  you,"  he 
observed. 

"  I  don't  think  so.  I'd  do  almost  anything 
— sacrifice  anything — almost — to  capture  that 
butterfly." 

He  grew  grave  immediately ;  there  was  a 
silence  ;  then  he  said  : 

"  I  didn't  suppose  you  possessed  any  of  the 
qualities  one  expects  to  find  in  a  true  scien- 
tist. I  don't  understand  how  an — an  amateur, 
who  cares  only  for  the  mere  prettiness  of  a 
butterfly,  could  run  as  fast  after  one  as  you 
did,  and  keep  up  such  a  heartbreaking  chase 
under  a  vertical  sun— 

"  It  would  break  my  heart  if  I  couldn't  get 
that  butterfly,"  she  said. 

"  It's  the  same  with  me,"  he  admitted. 
"  But  I  don't  see  why  it  would  do  anything 
so  serious  to  you." 

"  Why  not?    I've  set  my  heart  on  it." 

"  Have  you  a  serious  collection  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  said. 

"  Do  you  study  butterflies  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  do." 


44  Sonic  Ladies  in   Hustc 

•  i«  »u>ly  ?  " 

11  Perfectly/1  she  smiled. 

"  Scientifically  ?  "  he  persisted. 

She  pouted  adorably :  "  No,  if  you  mean  to 
ask  me  whether  I  know  all  their  names." 
•  "  But — what  use  arc  they  to  you?" 

"  They  are  of  a  use  most  important,"  she 
said  with  smiling  decision.  And  as  his  eyes 
grew  rounder  she  laughed.  "  Of  course,  you 
think  that  I  probably  cook  and  eat  them." 

"  I  can't  understand."  he  said.  "  why  you 
take  such  a  tremendous  lot  of  trouble  to 
chase  this  butterfly— 

I  t«»M  \<»u;  it's  the  color  that  attracted 
me.  I  never  saw  MU  h  a  delicately  original 
combination  of  smuk\  -i.i\  and  blue  and 
pearl  tint-." 

"And  \MU  \\ant  my  rare  and  wonderful  Di- 
ana just  becaii-e  \«»ii  like  the  color  of  her 
wings?"  he  demanded  impatiently. 

"Just  for  that.  In  butterflies  the  com- 
bination of  colors  is  so  charmingly  original 
that  I  use  them  in  selecting  my  hats  and 
gowns." 

He  looked  at  her  exasperated.  She  was 
eating  a  peach,  and  the  delicately  delightful 
way  she  did  it  would  have  humbled  any  or- 


Diana's  Chase  45 

dinary  man  to  adoration.  Even  Kelvin,  deep 
in  his  benighted  soul  of  an  entomologist,  felt 
several  exquisite  thrills  shooting  among  his 
ribs,  and,  between  spasms  of  exasperation, 
he  sat  rather  dazzled  by  her  fresh,  youthful 
beauty. 

44  There  are  some  things  which  are  the  lim- 
it," he  said,  partly  to  himself. 

The  girl  sipped  her  glass  of  water  and 
gazed  up  into  the  tree. 

"  Suppose,"  he  said,  "  that  Diana  should 
suddenly  take  a  notion  to  come  to  earth  ?  " 

44  I  would  run  after  lu  r,     >he  observr.l 

"So  would  I,"  he  said  promptly. 

"  Meanwhile,"  she  nodded  gayly,  "  there  is 
no  use  in  speculating  as  to  which  one  of  us  is 
to  be  fortunate." 

Clearly  she  had  every  confidence  in  her 
own  quickness  of  eye  and  fleetness  of  limb, 
and  her  laughing  courage  (list u rind  Kelvin. 

*'  In  the  interests  of  science,"  he  said  sud- 
denly, "  I  ought  to  climb  that  tree." 

"  What  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  paling. 

"  I  ought  to  sling  my  butterfly  net  around 
my  neck  and  shin  up  that  tree,"  he  repeated. 

"  Tha — that  is  unfair — horridly  unfair — 

"  And  shin  up  and  up,"  he  continued,  un- 


46  Sonic   Ladies  in   Haste 

heeding,  "until  I  get  to  the  top.     Then  1 M 
easily  discover  Diana 

"  I— if  you  attempt  to  climb  that  tree/'  she 
exclaimed,  "  I'll  climb  it,  t< 

You  can't/'  he  jeered,  feeling  very,  very 
mean  in  his  triumph. 

"  I  can.     I'll  do  it,  too — if  you  attempt  it." 

"  I'm  going  to — in  the  interest  of  science/' 
he  announced  deliberately.  And,  rising,  he 
walked  to  the  foot  of  the  tree. 

Instantly  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  but  as 
he  easily  swung  himself  into  the  tirM  crotch 
she  halted,  \\ent  \\hite.  then  red.  then,  as  In- 
turned  and  looked  down  at  her,  the  quick 
tears  rushed  to  li 

"  Science  or  not."  she  faltered,  in  a  choking 
voice,  "it  i-  it  i-  contemptible!" 

But  he  was  leaning  down  from  the  first 
branch,  holding  out  both  hands  to  her,  and 
saying:  "Of  course,  I  mean  to  fight  you  on 
even  terms.  Catch  my  hands — reach  up  a 
little  higher!  Now!  Swing  clear!  I'll  lift 
you  into  the  first  crotch  !  " 

It  was  done  in  an  instant  ;  he  swung  her 
from  her  feet  to  a  firm  footing  beside  him ; 
and,  as  she  caught  a  branch  and  steadied  her- 
self, she  said : 


Diana's  Chase  47 

"  I  knew  you  were  not  that  sort.  You  fight 
fairly.  I  knew  you  always  would." 

"  How  did  you  know?  " 

"How?  Why,  I've  made  up  my  mind 
about  you ;  I  made  up  my  mind  the  first  time 
I  ever  saw  you — this  last  spring — when  you 
first  came  wandering  along  the  Bronx." 

"  And — what  did  you  decide  ?  "  he  asked, 
affected  by  her  frankness  and  by  the  nearness 
of  her.  For  they  were  crowded  rather  closely 
together  in  the  crotch  of  the  oak — so  close 
that  he  was  sensible  of  the  delicately  vague 
fragrance  of  her — the  faint,  fresh  odor  of  her 
hair,  her  gown,  her  breath. 

She  steadied  her  slender  body,  one  hand  on 
the  tree  trunk,  and  looked  fearlessly  aloft. 

"  Come  on,"  she  said.  "  Are  you  ready  to 
start  on  even  terms  ?  " 

He  looked  up  at  the  high  branches,  then  at 
her. 

"  You  can't  go  up  there,"  he  said,  with  a 
curious  sensation  of  apprehension. 

"Why  not?" 

"  I — it's  too — too  high.  Your  shoes  are 
slippery — 

4  There's  no  more  chance  of  my  falling 
than  there  is  of  yours,  is  there  ?  " 


48  Some  Ladies  in   Ifusfc 

And  as  he  did  not  reply  :  "  Fair  \\arnir 
she  said,  catching  \\ith  both  sun-tanned  hands 
the  branch  above  her  head.  "  I  air  \\arnm-! 
One,  two,  three!  "  and  the\  scrambled  upward 
together  through  the  thicket  of  leaves  and 
branches. 

They  had  shortened  their  butterfly  nets, 
and  hung  them  an  mud  their  necks  by  rubber 
bands.  The  rings  and  the  netting  became 
constantly  entangled  in  the  foliage  as  they 
raced  upward,  climbing  >\\ittl\  toward  the 
patches  of  blue  sky  on  high. 

lie    casils    outstripped   her;   her    skirts    and 
her  net  seemed  to  catch  continually.     Besides, 
her   wrists    were   not   as   strong  as   his.   and 
her    limbs    were    not    so   long  or  so    stmd\. 
He  used  his  powerful   shoulder  inn-des  and 
swung    up   the    ladder   of   branches   past    her. 
tearing    a    sk\ward    path    through   the   #i 
Already  he  had  distanced  her;  the  precar 
footing    did    not    slacken    his    pace,    nor 
eitlu-r;    but    his    lu-ad    was   above    hers,    then 
slowly  neck,  chest,  shoulders  ahead  of  1 
He  glanced  down  into  her  determined  face, 
caught  a  glimmer  of  defiance  in  the  brown 
eyes ;  then  suddenly  the  eyes  widened  under 
a   shock   of  purest   fear;  he   saw   the   small, 


Diana's  Chase  49 

smooth  hand  slip,  clutch  at  the  branch,  cling 
and  slip;  the  face  below  him  turned  ashy. 
And  at  the  same  moment  he  stooped  and 
caught  her  under  her  arms. 

For  a  second  she  hung  there  at  a  dizzy 
height — a  dead  weight  in  his  arms,  head  fallen 
back.  He  thought  she  had  fainted,  but  the 
brown  eyes  opened,  she  swung  her  right  leg 
forward  and  regained  the  crotch  from  whence 
it  had  slipped. 

"  Quick !  Around  my  neck  with  both 
arms !  "  he  gasped.  "  I  can  hold  you !  " 

"  W-will  I  endanger  you  ?  " 

"No,  no!    Hurry.!" 

Her  clasp  around  his  neck  nearly  tore  him 
from  the  branches,  but  he  hung  close,  bend- 
ing slowly  backward,  farther,  farther,  until 
she  was  drawn  little  by  little  out  of  the  abyss 
and  fell  forward  safe  against  him  among  the 
branches. 

Minute  after  minute  throbbed ;  again  and 
again  she  strove  to  recover  her  self-posses- 
sion, but  she  only  crouched  there,  trembling, 
eyes  closed. 

"  You  play  fairly/'  she  managed  to  gasp. 
"  Are  you  waiting  to  give  me  another 
chance?" 


50          Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

"  You  mean  that  you  are  willing  to  try  it 
— again  ?  "  he  demanded  incredulously. 

She  nodded,  breathing  fast.  "  One  mo- 
ment— to  recover  my  confidence — if  you  don't 
mind." 

"You  plucky  little  thing!"  his  lips  mo- 
tioned, but  he  made  no  sound,  watching  the 
play  of  golden  light  and  leaf  shadow  over  her 
closed  eyes  and  creamy  skin.  Then  a  slight 
color  came  back  into  the  cheeks,  her  bn»\\n 
eyes  opened  on  his ;  she  tried  to  smile. 

"  I  am  ready.  I  think."  she  said. 

A  slowly  growing  thrill  enveloped  him ;  he 
made  no  answer,  but  his  eyes  never  left  hers. 

44  Are  you  ready  ?  "  she  asked,  clearing  her 
forehead  of  its  hair  with  unsteady  haml.  Her 
hand  still  trembled  a  little  as  she  grasped  the 
lu-xt  brancli  above  her  head.  And  as  though 
in  simple  curiosity  he  laid  his  hand  over  it. 
Her  fingers  were  u  \. 

"  You  are  afraid,"  he  said. 

"  I  know  it." 

"  But  you  are  still  willing  to  try  again  '  " 

"  Of  course." 

His  hand  over  hers  began  to  shake  slightly, 
and  she  noticed  it  and  raised  her  eyes. 

"Are  you  afraid?" 


Diana9 s  Chase  51 

"  Horribly/' 

"  Then  I'll  wait  for  you,"  she  said  simply, 
leaning  forward  to  steady  her  body  against 
the  main  trunk. 

"  You'll  have  to  wait  a  long  time,"  he  said. 

"  I  don't  mind." 

"  Longer  than  you  know." 

"  You  waited  for  me.     I  don't  mind." 

"  But — but  it  is  you  I  am  afraid  for,  not 
myself." 

She  looked  up  with  the  pure,  direct  gaze  of 
a  child.  For  a  minute  they  faced  each  other 
in  silence. 

"  May  I  tell  you  something?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes." 

"  Then — there's  a  man — a  friend  of  mine — 
No,  I  can't  explain  it  that  way.  Let  me  be- 
gin in  another  way.  Did — have  you — noticed 
any  particular  change  in  yourself — any  radi- 
cal change  in  your  temperament  and  char- 
acter— a — recently?  I  mean  within  the  last 
three  months?  For  instance,  were  you,  three 
months  ago,  particularly  devoted  to  prowling 
about  the  Bronx  and  listening  to  dickey  birds 
and  chasing  butterflies?  " 

She  shook  her  pretty  head.  "  I  am  greatly 
changed,"  she  said.  "  Three  months  ago 
5 


52  Some  I.uiiics  in  ffusfc 

nothing  on  earth  could  have  induced  me  to 
run  wild  like  this — shatter  every  canon  of 
convention  and  common  sense  and  go  roam- 
ing about,  KM'-*) -mad.  Were  yon  always  so 
devoted  to  natural  histo; 

I?  No!"  he  said,  almost  violently.  I 
was  not\  I'm  normally  a  plain  business  man. 
I  make  pulp  paper!  Three  months  ago  I 
began  this  sort  of  performance 

"Three  month 

"  Exactly — like  yourself.  I  didn't  want  to 
do  it  1  \ample — I  detest  snakes  and 

caterpillars,  but  I've  a  box  full  of  'em  down 
there." 

She  shuddered. 

44  And  here  I  am,"  he  said,  "  up  a  tree 
like  an  accursed  monkey,  disputing  over  a 
butterfly  \\ith  a  girl  I — I  never  saw— 

44  Did — didnt  you  see  me — in  the  begin- 
ning 

"  Yes.  I  did.  and  I  couldn't  keep  my  eyes 
off  you.  And  that  is  the  truth!  " 

"  Oh,"  she  said  faintly. 

44  Yes,  the  truth!  "  he  continued  excitedly  ; 
"  and  the  truth  is  that,  somehow,  within  three 
months  I've  the  most  dreadful  and  shameless 
inclination  to  tell  the  absolute  truth  to  any- 


Diana's  Chase  53 

body  who  asks  me.  It's — it's  damaging  my 
business  somewhat ;  it's  raising  the  mischief 
with  me  socially.  I'm  a  changed,  trans- 
formed, translated  man ;  I'm  not  myself.  The 
chances  are  that  I'll  never,  never  again  be 
myself — after  what  Manners  has  done  to 
me " 

"  Manners! " 

"  Oh,  he's  evidently  been  meddling  with 
you,  too,  said  Kelvin.  "  You  are  probably 
one  of  the  agreeable  girls  he  noticed  from 
his  club  window.  Tell  me — were  you  the  usu- 
al frivolous,  capricious,  fashionable,  empty- 
headed  opportunist,  brought  up  in  terror  of 
convention  and  good  taste  ?  Were  you  ?  " 

"Y-yes,"  she  faltered.  "  I— I  hadn't  an 
idea  outside  of  the  drilled  routine  I  was  bred 
to.  They  think  I  am  crazy  at  home." 

"  Then  it's  Manners !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Manners  ?  "  she  faltered.  "  I  don't  think 
I  understand." 

"  Manners  is  a  man — William  T.  Man- 
ners!— a  mischief-making,  meddlesome  friend 
of  mine!  He's  given  you  absent  treat- 
ment  

"  For  what  ?  "  she  demanded  angrily. 

"  Frivolity — mental   vacancy — general   use- 


54  Some  I.  u  dies  in  Haste 

lessness,  I  suppose !  He  gave  it  to  me — he's 
filled  me  full  of  thoughts !  He's  fired  me  with 
a  craze  for  truth  and  Nature." 

"  I — I  am  afflicted  that  way,  too,"  she  mur- 
mured. "  I  am  most  unwilling  to  say  so,  but 
the  truth  is  that  w-when  I  first  saw  you,  you 
attracted  me — v-very  m-m-much." 

'  You  plucky  little  thing  to  say  so!"  he 
cried  warmly. 

"  No ;  it  isn't  pluck.  I — can't  help  it.  Do 
you  think  1  want  to  admit  such  a  thing  to 
a  man  whose  name  I  don't  even  know  ?  "  she 
demanded.  "It  isn't  pluck:  for  instance. 
/  didn't  want  to  chase  that  butterfly  and 
climb  this  tree!  Can't  you  understand? 
Please,  please  understand  that  I  know  how 
horrid  and  common  and  unconventional  I 
appear 

"  1  absolutely  deny  it.  You  know  I  couldn't 
help  saying  so  if  you  did  appear  that  way. 
lint  YMU  don't :  you  are  charming  and  bewil- 
deringly  attractive ' 

"Oh,   please — I    don't    wish    you   to   say" 

—  she   stopped  —  "  I    mean  —  that    the   truth 

is — the    dreadful,    unescapable    truth    is   that 

I   do   wish   to   listen   to   you— even    up   this 

tree." 


Diana's  Chase  55 

Her  rising  color  and  her  emotion  were  re- 
flected in  his  face  and  voice. 

"  You  are  the — the  most  splendid  girl  I 
ever  saw,"  he  said  unsteadily. 

"  You — you— oh,  must  I  tell  you  how 
frightened  and  happy  you  make  me ! "  she 
asked  in  crimson  distress.  "  I  have — I  was 
engaged  to  marry  a  man — but  he  isn't  like 
you — oh,  not  at  all  like  you.  I  think — if  you 
—if  I  thought  you  might  really  ever  care  for 
me — that  way — that  I'd  break  the  engage- 
ment." 

Her  hand  under  his  trembled;  he  impris- 
oned the  slim  fingers. 

"  I  do  care  for  you,"  he  said  unsteadily ;  "  I 
— I  am  quite  mad  about  you.  Can't  you  see 
it— can't  you  feel  it  ?  " 

"  Y-yes.  C-can  you  see  how — how  per- 
fectly crazy  I  am  about  you?  I  am  so — so 
dazed  that  I  think  we  had  better  climb  down 
out  of  this  tree." 

"  Not  until  I  give  you — yield  to  you — the 
dearest  and  most  precious  object  that  I  ever 
hope  to  possess !  "  he  cried. 

And,  before  she  understood  what  he  con- 
templated, he  was  madly  scrambling  upward 
among  the  branches. 


56  Sonic   Ladies  in   Ilustc 

And  now,  fearlessly  swinging  among  the 
topmost  branches,  she  saw  him  extend  his 
net,  lean  far  over  the  tangled  maze  of  gum, 
and  beat  the  foliage. 

Instantly  there  came  a  bluish  flash  of  win--. 
a  swish  of  tin-  net.  a  Hutu-ring  struggle  within 
the  gauze  prison,  a  faint  taint  of  chloroform 
in  the  summer  air. 

And  a  minute  later  he  came  climbing  down, 
radiant,  triumphant,  and  laid  in  IKT  trembling 
palm  the  conquered  Diana,  lovely  in  pearl  and 
cloudy  blue. 

••  For  m*\*  she  Mfced 

For  you.     I   wish   I   had  a  thousand  to 
give  you." 

"  I — I  can't — I  simply  cannot  take    it. " 

"  Do  yon  wish  to  make  me  miserable?  " 

The  brown  eyes  were  raised  to  his— clear, 
steadfast,  pure  eyes  that  did  not  fait 

"  I  would  rather  make  you  happy  than  any- 
body in  all  the  world,"  she  said  slowly. 

His  senses  were  swimming  as  he  laid  the 
butterfly  away  in  a  box,  put  the  box  into  his 
pocket,  and  turned  to  her. 

"  I  am  ready  to  have  you  help  me  down, 
she  said. 

And,  heart  racing  madly,  he  managed  to 


Dianas  Chase  57 

aid  her  in  the  descent,  down,  slowly,  from 
branch  to  branch,  guiding  her  with  arm  and 
hand  within  his  hand. 

And  at  last  they  reached  the  last  crotch, 
and  he  bent  down  and  swung  her  free  above 
the  moss. 

"Shall  I  let  you  go?"  he  asked,  looking 
down  into  her  face. 

"  Yes ;  it  is  not  far.  I  can  easily  drop  this 
distance/' 

"  But— I  don't  want  to  let  go  of  you." 

"Why?"  She  looked  up,  then  the  color 
flooded  her  face.  For  a  moment  they  were 
silent,  she  swinging  from  his  arms  above  the 
moss,  he  bent  above  her. 

"  Brown  eyes,  brown  eyes,"  he  whispered ; 
"shall  I  let  you  go?" 

"  Gray  eyes,"  she  murmured ;  "  gray  eyes ! 
Shall  Iletjpttgo?" 

"  I  love  you,"  he  pleaded  under  his 
breath. 

Hanging  there  she  raised  her  hands  and 
rested  them  on  his  arms  that  held  her  sus- 
pended an  instant,  looking  up  at  him.  Then, 
her  soul  in  her  eyes,  she  threw  her  head  back ; 
and  their  lips  clung. 


58  Sotnc  Ladies  in   I  lust c 

"  One  thing,"  she  sighed,  as  they  moved 
slowly  together  through  the  primrose  dusk, 
"  and  I  must  do  it  at  once." 

"  What  ?  "  he  murmured  rapturously. 

"Write  to  that  very  unfortunate  n-</«T(/n/ 
fiance  of  mine  and  explain." 

Kelvin  forced  a  sigh  for  the  sake  of  de- 
cenc 

"  Poor  devil!"  lie  said.  "I'm  not  really 
sorry  for  him,  of  course.  \V!i«»  U  ! 

Hi-  name  is  William  Manners."  ^\\{-  said 
softly.  "And  if  he  didn't  know  any  better 
than  to  mistake  the  girl  he  was  engaged  to 
for  somebody  he'd  never  seen,  that  is  not  my 
fault;  is  it,  beloved?" 


CHAPTER    III 

AN   OVERDOSE 

IEN,  at  length,  William  Man- 
ners realized  that  he  was  ac- 
tually able,  through  the  sheer 
I  force  of  mental  persuasion,  to 
control  and  influence  anybody 
and  everybody,  whether  or  not  he  knew  them 
personally,  whether  or  not  they  were  aware 
of  what  he  was  up  to;  and  when  he  under- 
stood that  his  idle  experiments  in  mental  sci- 
ence had  really  resulted  in  changing  not  only 
the  character,  but  even  the  physical  appear- 
ance, of  those  on  whom  he  had  ventured  to 
59 


60  Some   /.(/(//V.v  /;/   Ilnstc 

operate,  his  amazement,  remorse,  and  alarm 
knew  no  bounds. 

He  had  chosen  five  very  imperfect  men  of 
his  acquaintance  on  whom  to  attempt  these 
practices,  and  he  had  also  selected,  as  mar- 
na-ral)lc  possibilities  for  lii>  friends,  five 
women  with  whom  he  was  not  acquainted — 
the  first  five  ornamental  young  girls  he 
chanced  to  observe  on  Fifth  Avenue,  passing 
the  club  window  where  he  sat — all  uttrr 
strangers  to  him,  as  he  believed.  For,  his 
monocle  being  in  his  eye.  he  had  imt  recog- 
ni/ed  ill  one  of  tlu-M-  ladies  his  own  //(/;/, 

Of  the  five  men  on  whom  he  had  e: 
his  uncanny  will  power  all  were  now  exhibit- 
ing symptoms  logically  consequent  upon  the 
mental  treatment  he  had  given  them  ;  Kelvin 
had  left  him  that  morning,  hopping  mad  and 
also  Nature  mad  ;  and  for  weeks  now  he  had 
had  Dudley  Todd  on  his  hands — not  tin- 
old,  familiar,  impossible  Todd,  not  the  tol- 
erated but  despised  Todd.  the  club  affliction 
and  general  nincompoop  in  ordinary — but  a 
brand-new  Todd,  a  popular  Todd.  a  radically 
translated  Todd. 

And  all  might  have  been  well  had  Todd 
merely  developed  along  the  lines  of  the 


An  Overdose  61 

wholesome  mental  treatment  which  Manners 
had  honestly  meant  to  give  him ;  but  Manners 
was  far  from  judicious  in  his  treatment.  He 
considered  Todd  such  a  desperate  case  that 
his  mental  treatment  was  a  sort  of  urgency 
treatment — as  strenuous  as  first  aid  to  the 
mortally  injured,  and  far  more  vigorous  than 
he  realized  at  the  time.  And  now,  when  too 
late,  utterly  unable  to  reverse  treatment  or 
modify  what  he  had  done,  he  perceived  with 
horror  that  he  had  given  Todd  an  overdose. 

And  Todd  was  fast  becoming  the  limit  in 
Manhattan  town. 

In  an  agony  of  contrition  Manners  had 
gone  to  Todd  and  confessed  what  he  had 
done  to  him,  supposing  that  Todd  would  take 
a  grip  on  himself  and  stop,  even  if  he  inci- 
dentally destroyed  Manners  as  an  act  of  ab- 
stract justice. 

But  Todd,  when  he  recovered  from  his 
astonishment,  seemed  rather  pleased  than  an- 
noyed, and  admitted  frankly  that  the  absent 
treatment  given  him  by  Manners  had  agreed 
with  him. 

In  vain  Manners  expostulated.  Todd  ob- 
stinately insisted  that  it  agreed  with  him  and 
made  him  very,  very  happy ;  that  he  felt  him- 


62  Some  Ladies  in   Hustc 

self  endowed  with  the  energy,  imagination, 
and  capacity  for  romantic  affection  of  a  dozen 
men  all  rolled  into  one. 

But  Todd's  conduct  had  now  become  such 
that  Manners,  feeling  personally  responsible 
for  the  young  fellow's  amazing  behavior,  felt 
obliged  to  follow  him  about  day  and  ni^lit 

And  the  antics  of  Todd,  and  his  sleepless, 
untiring  assiduity  in  the  headlong  hunt  for 
happiness,  were  wearing  Manners  to  a  shad- 
ow in  the  effort  to  do  police  duty. 

Then  another  blow  fell.     Eric  Kelvin   re- 
turned from  the  Bronx  and   informal    Mm 
ners    that   he   was  now   engaged  to   m 
Manure  .  an«l   Manners  rushed  madly 

uptown  to  expostulate  \\ith  the  object  of  In- 
adoration. 

But  that  charming  and  changed  young 
devotee  to  Nature  mrnly  admitted  that  -h<- 
no  longer  cared  for  him.  but  loved  Kelvin 
with  all  her  heart ;  and  Manners  rushed  home 
again,  a  prey  to  sentimental  agitation. 

The  Lenox  Club  was  his  home.    He  locked 
himself   in  his  bedroom,  where  for  twi 
four  hours  he  maintained  a  distracted  silt 
interrupted    at    intervals    by    processions    of 
waiters  bearing  ice,  vichy,  tonic,  and  kindly 


An  Overdose  63 


inquiring  notes  from  Kelvin,  to  which  he 
deigned  no  reply. 

By  and  by,  Kelvin  himself  arrived,  but 
Manners  refused  to  open  the  door.  Only  his 
voice,  hoarse  and  injured,  satisfied  Kelvin 
that  his  friend  still  lived. 

"  Don't  do  anything  terrible,  will  you  ? " 
insisted  Kelvin. 

"  I  may,"  said  Manners  ominously,  begin- 
ning to  enjoy  himself. 

So  Kelvin,  disconcerted,  sat  down  outside 
the  door.  And,  by  and  by,  Manners,  being 
low  in  his  mind,  sought  consolation  in  a 
mouth  organ. 

"  Oh,  pip ! "  muttered  Kelvin,  jumping  up 
and  rapping  on  the  door.  "  Come  out,  Wil- 
liam !  You  are  convalescent !  " 

Manners  wanted  to,  but  he  only  blew  a  sul- 
len blast  on  his  mouth  organ. 

"  Are  you  coming  out  ? "  repeated  the 
other.  '  There  are  five  men  waiting  for  us 
in  the  card  room." 

So  Manners  came  out,  scowling,  and  they 
shook  hands. 

"  I  never,  never  thought  you'd  do  such  a 
thing,"  said  Manners,  sulkily  lighting  the  ci- 
gar that  Kelvin  offered. 


f>4  Some  Ladies  in   Haste 

"She  never  did  like  you  very  much,  any- 
way," explained    Kelvin.     "Come  on  do\\n 
stairs ;  Todd  is  banking " 

"Todd!"  groaned  Manners.  "  I  —  I'm  sick 
of  the  very  name  of  Todd!  "  And.  in  a  last 
spasm  of  revolt:  "If  ever  I  am  ass  enou-h 
to  fool  with  mental  science  ai^ain  I  deserve 
to  marry  a  Sixth  Avenue  manicmv ' 
would  it  inconvenience  you  to  come  in  every 
morning  for  a  month  and  disable  me  with  a 
kid 

"William,"    said     Kelvin    Mispiri,  »iisl\ .    Mi| 
Todd  one  of   your    victims'      I've    \\.rn,! 
what  was  the  matter  \\ith  him.     Is  1 

lint  Manners,  with  a  tragic  -t -Mure,  pushed 
open  the  door  of  the  card  r«M,m.  and  the  two 
men    \\ere    jxilitely    greeted    and    invited    to 
in." 

The  seance  was  a  gay  o  i  celebrants 

assisting  at  the  ccrcm-nnis;  ami  the  gayest 
of  the  gay,  the  cheeriest,  the  liveliest,  was 
Todd.  bubbling  over  with  the  infernal  and 
inexhaustible  energy  of  a  d../<  n  men. 

"Can  nothing  tire  that  cn.ttun  -"  mut- 
tered Manners  to  himself,  between  his  teeth. 
"He's  tuning  up  for  another  horrible  even- 
ing. He'll  be  all  over  the  country,  and  he'll 


An  Overdose  65 

get  into  the  newspapers  if  I  don't  follow 
him/' 

Todd,  unconscious,  trolled  a  merry  ditty 
and  drew  two  more  kings. 

"  Are  you  tired,  old  chap  ? "  asked  Man- 
ners. "  You  look  like  the  last  run  of  jelly- 
fish, dear  friend." 

"Who?  I?  Why,  I'm  fresh  as  a  daisy," 
said  Todd,  betting  the  limit. 

Manners  reviewed  his  hand  with  a  bitter 
smile  and  stayed  out. 

"  He  does  look  queer,  though,"  he  insisted, 
with  a  significant  nod  to  Kelvin.  "  And  / 
don't  believe  he's  perfectly  well.  Todd,"  he 
added  anxiously,  "  do  you  feel  perfectly  well, 
old  fellow?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Todd,  with  a  smirk,  as 
he  gathered  up  the  chips,  and  shuttled  the 
cards  for  the  kitty  sweepstake  ^.  "  Is  every 
student  in  ? "  —  glancing  around  the  table. 
"  Come,  get  nimble,  Kelvin ;  you're  shy  a 
blue  one !  "  And,  nodding  similar  admonition 
across  at  Kelly  Jones,  he  lighted  a  cigar  and 
dealt  cold  decks  all  round. 

Kelvin  spread  his  cards  face  up  on  the 
table,  observed  with  disgust  the  single  sou- 
brette,  and,  unable  to  draw  to  a  kitty  clean- 


66  Some  Ladles  In  Haste 

up,  admitted  he  was  out.  Then  he  leaned 
over  toward  Manners. 

"  Is  Todd  one  of  your  victims?"  he  whis- 
pered. "  You've  certainly  made  a  man  of 
him!" 

"  The  trouble  is,"  said  Manners,  "  I've 
made  about  a  dozen  men  of  him.  Look  at 
him  now!  He's  hatching  deviltrx  '  Un't  he 
the  saucy  Clarence?  Look  at  him  with  his 
pat  hand!  When  I  treated  him  1>\  nuntal 
suggestion  I  inu*t  have  given  him  a  tern  IK 
overdose  of  everything " 

He  broke  off  short  as  Todd  triumphantly 
spread  out  his  five  cards. 

"All  pink  !  (funds,  students,  and  relatives," 
be  observed.  "  It's  only  seven  o'clock.  Shall 
we  continue-  our  votive  offerings  to  the  astig- 
matic goddi- 

But  sentiment  was  against  him.  Several 
men  said  they  were  hungry,  and  everybody 
began  to  make  precise  little  piles  of  tlu n 
multicolored  chips.  Todd,  courteous  and  in- 
defatigable, immediately  became  very  busy 
with  his  pencil  and  paper,  checking  off  the 
returns.  Manners  had  no  chips  to  pile  up 
symmetrically,  and  he  rose  and  walked  to  the 
window.  Kelvin  joined  him,  and  peered  out 


An  Overdose  67 

and  upward  where  the  last  tints  of  daylight 
were  fading  from  the  summer  sky  and  the  first 
stars  faintly  sparkled. 

"  Stars  out  already,"  observed  Manners 
gloomily.  "  I'm  dog  tired.  I'd  like  to  spend 
a  quiet  evening — dine  here  alone,  read  the 
paper,  and  go  to  bed.  But  I  can't  do  it." 

"  On  account  of  Todd  ?  "  inquired  Kelvin. 

"  Yes,  on  account  of  that  infernal  Todd ! 
He's  killing  me,  that's  what  he's  doing — 
dragging  me  about  all  day  and  all  night  witli 
him." 

"  And  you  dare  not  let  him  out  of  your 
sight?"  asked  Kelvin  sympathetically. 

"  I  should  think  not !  That  man  has  a  ca- 
pacity for  putting  both  feet  in  it  beyond  all 
dreams  of  common  sense.  You  remember 
what  a  little  nincompoop  he  was — a  lazy, 
idle,  dull-minded,  unimaginative,  common- 
place peddler  of  stocks  and  bonds? 

"Well,  I  thought  he  needed  mental  sug- 
gestion, and  I  was  ass  enough  to  treat  him 
for  everything  he  lacked!  And  look  at  him! 
—Look  at  him,  Kelvin ! — Clever,  industrious, 
full  of  poetic  fire,  imaginative,  romantic,  and 
yet  capable  enough  to  make  a  fortune  for 
himself  in  Wall  Street  in  three  months/ 
6 


68  Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

"  Look  at  him,  I  tell  you !  Why,  he's  pos- 
itively grown  tall  and  good-looking! — and — 
and  I  wish  I  hadn't  treated  him  for  lack  of 
imagination  and  idleness ;  I  do,  indeed !  He's 
full  of  enterprise  and  full  of  a  tireless  energy 
that's  simply  killing  me,  Kelvin.  I'm  nearU 
dead,  trying  to  keep  him  out  of  mischief. 
Why  on  earth  can't  he  get  tired?  He  works 
like  a  millionaire  all  day,  and  he's  all  over 
everywhere  after  five  o'clock !  I  must  have 
been  crazy  to  inject  that  combination  of 
moonstruck  romance  and  devilish  energy  into 
him.  Hark!  JIM  lixu-n  to  him  mm  !  " 

The  two  men  turned  from  the  window  to- 
ward the  lighted  green  table,  where  half  a 
dozen  men  had  gathered  around  Todd  as  he 
closed  their  accounts. 

And  Todd  was  saying  enthusiastically : 
"Well,  we  had  a  corking  game,  didn't  we? 
There's  a  lot  of  pure  romance  in  the  old-fash- 
ioned national  game.  There's  romance  ev 
where  and  in  everything.  This  rity  reeks 
with  romance — every  street  is  full  of  it,  day 
and  night,  if  only  you  realize  it.  Isn't  it, 
Manners:*  Why.  I  tell  you,  fellows,  that  a 
mere  walk  in  town  is  to  me  one  endless  ten- 
sion of  excitement  and  suspense " 


An  Overdose  69 

Billy  West  laughed,  and  asked  if  Todd 
really  found  a  walk  on  Fifth  Avenue  partic- 
ularly exciting. 

"Certainly  I  do!"  said  Todd;  "on  Fifth 
Avenue  or  on  any  street  or  lane  or  alley  or 
mews  in  this  wonderful  metropolis !  " 

Kelly  Jones  observed  that  he,  personally, 
never  had  encountered  any  inexpensive  ro- 
mance in  the  neighborhood. 

"Nonsense!"  said  Todd;  "town's  full  of 
it!  I  never  put  on  my  hat  and  coat  and 
take  my  gloves  and  my  stick  but  I  experi- 
ence a  subtle  thrill  of  most  delicious  suspense. 
I  say  to  myself :  *  I  am  going  out  among  sev- 
eral millions  of  unknown  fellow-creatures.  I 
am  likely  at  any  moment  to  meet  with  almost 
any  kind  of  an  adventure.  I  may  encounter 
Fate  itself  around  the  first  corner,  or  Destiny 
hiding  behind  a  tree/  Who  knows?  I  don't; 
you  don't !  And  that  is  the  best  part  of  it ! ' 

And  Todd  smiled  so  winningly  upon  those 
about  him  that  they  all  smiled  in  return. 
He  had  become  very  popular  within  a  few 
weeks. 

Said  Todd :  "  When  I  set  foot  out  of  doors 
my  pulses  leap;  I'm  all  afire  with  energy, 
all  aquiver  with  the  possibilities  before  me. 


70  Some  Ladles  in  Haste 

Ever>*  street  is  a  vague  vista  of  haunted  n 
tery  and  promise;  every  lamp-post  exijin 
ly    M^mtirant  ;    r\ery    electric    li.i;ht    M-ems   to 
wink   at    me  and    Uvk.ni   me  on  to   perilous 
adventure !   Chance  lies  before  me  :  all  an  mini 
me  Hazard  dogs   my   >tep:   and  a   most 
hilarating  mixture  of  foreboding,  apprehen- 
sion,               tin  v.  and  hope  sets  me  trotting 
out   into  the    metropolitan    \\ilds ' 

"And    int.  muttered     Manners    to 

Hill>    West 

**  Too    had,"    said  inpathetieally — 

the  in-t  expression  of  anything  n->eml)ling 
>\ni|»atli\  Maniu-rs  had  heanl  lor  ICVentl 
days.  He  likrd  \\'e>t  ;  he  \\a>  inelined  to  like 
\\i-t  f":  tsons.  One  \sa>  that,  far 

away  in  the  back  part  of  his  head,  he  enter- 
tained an  <  admiration  \*>r  one  of 
I'.ilK  Urst's  listen  n««t  tin-  prrtt\  onr.  Hi- 
admiration  \\as  n«,t  l>a-rd  on  a  personal 
knowledge  of  In  ti  far  as  he  knew,  he 
had  nev«  her.  I'ut  liilly  talked  of  her 
a  great  deal,  and,  from  her  brother's  enthusi- 
astic description.  Manners  had  formed  a  curi- 
ous attachment  for  the  girl,  which  now.  in  his 
condition  of  bereavement,  haunted  him  with 
shy  but  tender  prr-i-tence.  And  some  day 


An  Overdose  71 

he  felt  that  he  was  destined  to  hear  more 
about  Billy  West's  sister — not  the  pretty  one. 

Meanwhile  Todd,  the  unspeakable,  was  still 
holding  forth. 

Several  men  asked :  "  Well,  Toddy,  do  you 
ever  really  make  good?  Do  you  ever  seize 
romance  by  the  coat  tails?  Do  you  actually 
have  any  genuine  adventures?  Does  he, 
Manners?  " 

"  Plenty/'  observed  Manners  morosely. 
"  Ask  any  desk  sergeant  in  the  five  bor- 
oughs ! " 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  added  Todd  joyously. 
"  Only  Manners,  there,  has  a  strange  delu- 
sion that  I'm  always  going  to  get  into  some 
sort  of  scrape ;  but  I  never  do — not  serious 
scrapes,"  he  added,  linking  his  arm  in  Man- 
ners's  arm  as  the  men  began  to  file  out  "  I 
say,  Kelvin,  Manners  and  I  are  going  out  in 
quest  of  adventures.  Will  you  come  ?  " 

But  Kelvin's  evenings  were  now  all  taken ; 
Manners  looked  at  him  sideways,  and  under- 
stood. 

So  Kelvin  blushed  becomingly  and  excused 
himself,  and  Manners  looked  after  him  wist- 
fully. He  had  not  yet  recovered  from  the 
shock  of  Kelvin's  engagement  announcement, 


72  me   I. tidies  in   Hustc 

and  sometimes  his  bereavement  made  him 
\\i-tful  and  sometimes  it  merely  made  him 
mad. 

"Where  shall  we  go  to-night?"  asked 
Todd  restlessly.  "  We'll  probably  have  some 
most  diverting  adventure  wherever  we  go  and 
\\hatever  we  do." 

"Why."   fumed    Manner-.   "  ran't    \«»u 
in  the  club  to-night  and  read  the  papi  r  and 
go  to  bed?" 

"  Go  to  bed!  "  echoed  Todd.       That \  the 
icment  of  it.     Nobody  on  earth  can  tell 
what    bed    I'll    sleep    in    next — if    1    >leej»    in 
any  !  " 

Manners  pleaded:  "Can't  you  give  me  a 
rest  for  one  evening— 

What?     Miss  the  possibilities  of  a  whole 
ing?" 

"  But  I'm  tired " 

"  You  don't  have  to  go,"  said  Todd. 
Yes,  I  do!     I   feel  responsible  for  you. " 
Why?    Just  becatiM   \mi  gave  me  al> 
treatment  for  which  I'm  eternally  obliged?" 

"  1—  Can't  yon  understand  that  I  over- 
did it?" 

"  Not  for  my  taste,"  said  Todd  serenely. 
"  Come  on ;  get  the  valet  to  pack  your  grip, 


An  Overdose  73 

and  we'll  go  down  to  Oyster  Bay,  where  all 
those  jolly  girls  are— 

"  Not  into  good  society  with  you ! " 
snapped  Manners.  "  I've  had  enough  of  that 
for  a  while." 

"Why?" 

"  Because,  when  you  go  into  decent  soci- 
ety, you  begin  paying  serious  attentions  to 
every  pretty  girl  you  meet.  What  do  you 
think  you  are — a  syndicate?  Do  you  mean 
to  be  bigamous?  Don't  you  know  you  over- 
do it?  And  I  have  to  go  around  afterwards 
and  explain  that  you  are  queer— 

"  Well,  you've  got  to  stop  that ! "  cried 
Todd  hotly. 

"Stop  it?  Why,  man,  if  I  don't  appear 
regularly  and  faithfully  in  the  wake  of  the 
ruin  you  have  wrought,  do  you  know  where 
you'd  be?" 

"  I'd  be  engaged  if  you  once  let  me  carry 
matters  to  a  finish — 

"  Yes,  engaged— every  evening  from  eight 
to  half  past  eleven.  You  don't  realize  how 
you  compromise  yourself  whenever  you  talk 
to  a  pretty  girl.  You  make  every  one  of  'em 
think  you're  in  love  with  them " 

"I  am!" 


74  Some   I.mlics  in   Haste 

Manners  glared,  then  fumbled  for  his  eye- 
glass. 

"  Todd !  "  he  said  with  deep  emotion.      it's 
my  fault.     I  overdosed  you.     You  can't  help 
it.      You  think  you're  a  multiple  pcr>onalit\ . 
You  don't  comprehend   how   plural   \«>u   In- 
have;  you  don't   reali/e  how  you   overdo  it, 
how  collectively  you  make  love,  what  an  ass 
you  reall)    are!     You  don't   understand   that 
you  are  now  praotieally  on  the  verge  of  l>< 
engaged  to  marry  eleven  separate  girls ' 

"Yes,  I  do!    And  I   \\aut  to!" 

'•  M.-IMA    'Mil   all?" 

"No;  be  engaged  to  them.     Why  don't 
you   let    me?      Why    do   \oti   go  round 
I've  made  a  batch  of  seri.ms  proposals  and 
tell  them   that    1    don't    mean   it— that   tli 
something   hideous   the   matter  \\ith   me?     If 
>ouM    mind    \our   o\\u    business   and    let    me 
select  one  of   them,    I'd  be  at   rest,  an- 
would  you." 

"  Idiot !  "  retorted  Manners ;  "  that  isn't  the 
way  to  get  married !  You  can't  go  about 
obtaining  options  that  \\ay.  <  ireat  Heaven-. 
Todd,  what  have  I  done  to  you?  What  an 
awful  overdose  I've  given  you!  1 
this  sickening  penance — a  lii  ly  spent 


An  Overdose  75 

in  following  you  around  to  keep  you  out  of 
the  penitentiary- 
He  almost  broke  down.    Todd  laid  a  com- 
forting hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Well,  we  won't  go  to  Oyster  Bay,  then," 
he  said.  "  Don't  worry,  Manners.  We'll 
take  things  easy  to-night  if  you're  tired. 
We'll  just  take  a  little  stroll  together." 

"  Every  time  I  stroll  with  you,"  said 
Manners,  "  something  unexpected  happens. 
You're  right,  Todd ;  you  do  have  adventures. 
Nobody  else  does  in  New  York,  but  you  do ; 
they  come  flocking  after  you  the  moment  you 
set  foot  out  of  doors.  And  I  get  the  butt-end 
of  'em,  usually." 

"  Isn't  it  fortunate,"  said  Todd  rapturously, 
"that  I,  who,  by  your  method  of  treatment, 
am  so  thoroughly  equipped  for  adventures, 
have  'em  in  such  agreeable  profusion?  I 
know  perfectly  well  that  after  dinner  this 
evening  when  you  and  I  stroll  out — no  matter 
where  I  go  or  which  way  I  turn — somewhere 
in  the  mysterious  medley  of  light  and  shadow 
I  am  certain  to  encounter  something  or  some- 
body most  extraordinary." 
Manners  groaned. 
"  Perhaps,"  murmured  Todd,  gazing  heav- 


76  Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

onward    with    rapt    eyes  —  "  Perhaps    I    may 
4  even  tin-  \n\    night  catch  a  glimpse  of  her 
whom  I  am  destined  to  make  happy  some  im- 
mortal day  !  " 

44  Oh,  piffle!"  said  Manm 

You  don't  understand/'  sighed  Todd 
dreamily.  "  The  celestially  perfect  and  still 
invisible.  She  may  be  encountered  any- 
where! But  I  shall  know  her  when  I  see 
her- 

That,"  said  Manners,  *  i-  why  \««u  require 
a  police  escort.  Are  you  dining  with  me? 
Very  well.  then.  I'm  going  to  dn 

"So  am  I."  murmured  Todd.  "  I—  I  feel 
curiously  and  prophetically  and  strangely  like 
a  —  a  bridegroom  this  evening 


usually   feel  like  several,"  snapped 
Manners. 


CHAPTER   IV 


A    REMEDY 

[BOUT  eleven  o'clock  that  even- 
ing Manners  seized  Todd  by 
the  elbow  and  shook  him 
fiercely. 

"  Are  you  ever  going  to  stop 
walking?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Why,  it's  only  eleven  o'clock,"  protested 
Todd.  "  I  don't  believe  we've  walked  fifteen 
miles  yet." 

"  We've  covered  fifty !     Look  at  me !  "  in- 
sisted Manners,  mopping  the  rivulets  of  per- 
spiration   from    his    face    and    attempting   to 
77 


78  Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

adjust  his  wilted  collar.  "  Everything  I've 
got  on  is  sticking  to  me  like  plaster;  my 
shoes  hurt;  I'm  thii  He  choked,  ex- 

asperated. 

I,  personally,"  observed  Todd.  "  feel 
agreeably  cool  and  fresh  and  comfortable,  so 
I  think  Til  stroll  on  a  bit  farther.  But/'  he 
added,  "  you  need  not  feel  obliged  to  accom- 
pany n 

Manners  glared  at  him.  then  around  at  the 
dimly  illuminated  and  unfamiliar  surround- 
ings. 

Where  are  we?"  he  growled.  "We 
might  as  well  be  in  a  foreign  city.  What 
street  is  tin  —peering  up  at  a  lamp-post. 
"  Eighty-sixth  Str  '  East  I  Who  on  earth 
ever  heard  of  East  Eight  \-i\th  Street? 
What's  that  cross  -trm  ?  East  Side  Avenue! 
Never  heard  of  it !  I  don't  want  to  hear  of 
it!  I  am—  What's  that  over  there?" 

"  A  park,"  said  Todd,  in  pleased  surpi 
"  What  a  charmingly  strange  little  park !  And 
what's  that  beyond?— the  East  River?  Isn't 
it  fascinating.  William?  And  look  at  those 
quaint  old-time  houses!  What  a  funny  littK 
cul-de-sac  of  a  court  they  form!  Why,  Wil- 
liam, this  is  perfectly  delightful  to  emerge 


A  Remedy  79 

from  the  reek  of  things  into  this  unknown 
oasis  on  the  river's  midnight  edge  —  the 
night's  Plutonian  shore,  so  to  speak/' 

"  Come  home !  "  said  Manners  coldly. 

"  Home  ?  And  leave  this  place  without 
having  had  a  single  extraordinary  adven- 
ture ! "  He  gazed  rather  blankly  at  Man- 
ners. "  Do  you  know,  William,  that  this  is 
the  first  time  in  months  I  have  failed  to  en- 
counter some  sort  of  an  adventure  before  I 
turned  my  nose  homeward?  And  this  is  just 
the  place  for  almost  anything  to  jump  out  at 
you." 

Manners  said  he  objected  to  being  jumped 
out  at. 

"  And  it's  curious,  too,"  mused  Todd,  look- 
ing hopefully  about,  "  because  when  I  started 
I  had  the  most  intense  sort  of  a  premonition 
that  something  most  unusual  was  going  to 
happen  to  me.  Why  do  you  suppose  nothing 
has  stung  me  ?  " 

Manners,  too  vexed  to  reply,  fanned  his 
heated  features  with  his  hat. 

"  In  fact,"  continued  Todd,  unheeding  him, 
"  I  felt  like  a  bridegroom — like  a  whole  pro- 
cession of  bridegrooms — when  I  started  out. 
Let's  go  over  into  that  curious  little  park  and 


8o  Some  L  (idles  in  Haste 

sit  on  a  bench.    Perhaps  something  will  break 
loose  within  ten  minutes." 

Manners  said  that  he  had  no  objection  to 
resting  for  a  moment,  and  they  entered  the 
park,  mounted  some  stone  steps  to  the  left, 
and  ascended  the  dim,  winding  path  under  the 
trees. 

As  they  came  out  on  a  sort  of  terrace  the 
fresh  river  breeze  stnuk  them,  and  they 
looked  out  into  a  world  of  darkness.  East 
and  south  myriads  of  lights  twinkled  ;  the  vast 
bulk  of  the  newest  bridge  towered  against  the 
stars;  and,  both  to  the  north  and  south,  tin 
lights  of  huge  municipal  institutions  glim- 
mered, cities  in  themselves,  so  wide  was  tlu 
territory  they  covered  on  the  shadowy  is- 
lands. 

North  lay  the  masses  of  Harlem,  light  i-»l 
against  the  horizon,  far  as  the  eye  could  see. 
\\<M.  avi-tiue  on  avenue  cross-striped  by 
countless  streets,  lay  the  metropolitan  wastes. 

Along  the  river  wall  below,  the  poor  of 
Yorkville  sat  huddled,  seeking  a  breath  of  air 
ere  they  crept  inland  to  their  kennels — vague 
masses  of  humanity,  darkening  the  mas- 
as  heaps  of  seaweed  edge  the  tide  mark. 

For  a  while  the  two  men  sat  listening  to 


A  Remedy  81 

the  foggy-throated  river  horns,  watching  the 
ferryboats  pass  like  floating  cages  of  fire,  or 
some  big  schooner,  all  sails  set,  yet  scarcely 
drawing,  swinging  swiftly  southward  on  the 
ebb. 

Suddenly  Todd  rose  from  his  seat  and, 
turning  his  back  to  the  river,  looked  eagerly 
inland. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  asked  Manners  mo- 
rosely. "  Can't  you  remain  motionless  for 
half  a  second?  Are  you  a  combination  of 
grasshopper  and  centipede,  or  are  you  a 
man?" 

Todd  fairly  danced  with  eagerness  and  im- 
patience. 

"  No,  by  St.  Vitus,  you  can't  sit  still,1'  said 
Manners.  "  What  makes  you  do  that  two- 
step?  What  are  you  staring  at,  Todd?  I 
won't  stay  here  if  anything's  going  to  hap- 
pen ! " 

"  I  am  only  excited  by  an  idea,"  explained 
Todd.  "  That  curious  row  of  old  red-brick 
houses  seems  to  be  such  a  good  stage  setting 
for  an  adventure.  Look,  William,  in  all  that 
strange,  quaint,  wabbly  row  of  bricks  there 
is  only  one  window  lighted.  Isn't  that  mys- 
terious ?  " 


82  Sonic   l.uJics  in   Haste 

"  Wonderful,"  said  Manners  scornfully. 
"It  reminds  me  of  a  plot  of  Paul  de  Kock 
— not  I  " 

"  Well,  that  single  lighted  window  ma\  n«  »t 
seem  so  very  my>teriou>  t«>  \.»u  or  to  a 
body  else,  but  /  consider  it  strangely,  om- 
inously significant,  William.  I  believe  there's 
an  adventure  about  to  happen  to  me  !  In- 
added  so  earnestly  and  with  such  naive  con- 
\irtitm  that  Mamu-rs  turned  sharply  around. 

"Wh\?"  he  demanded  uneasily. 

"  r.ecau>e  that  romantic  feeling  begins  to 
permeate  me.  1  feel  bright  and  confident  and 
gay,  and  I  am  inclined  to  song." 

"  Well.  I'm  not.     Come  on;  it's  tin-  home 
ward    trek    for   <  And    ho    arose    and 

grasped  Todd   firmly  by   the  ell>"u,   urging 
him  toward  the  Mn  <  t 

"l'un«>us."  inurmurod  Todd  —  "  Curious 
that  nothing  happens.  I  can't  undiTMand  it. 
\\  illiam.  This  is  not  my  usual  luck " 

And  he  continued  expostulating  alternately 
with  Fate  and  with  Manners  as  the  latter 
dragged  him  most  unwillingly  from  the  park 
and  into  the  dim  street  where  the  quaint  old 
row  of  red-brick  houses  stood  ranged  in 
the  darkness,  all  their  owlish-eyed  windows 


A 'Remedy  83 

closed  and  sealed  save  one.  But  from  that 
single  window  a  light  streamed  out  across  the 
street. 

Todd  halted  before  the  house.  Manners 
attempted  to  drag  him  onward,  but  he  re- 
sisted. 

"All  right!"  snapped  Manners;  "then 
stay  here !  "  And  he  dropped  Todd's  arm 
and  walked  haughtily  toward  the  corner,  but 
without  the  slightest  intention  of  really  aban- 
doning his  friend. 

When  he  got  as  far  as  the  corner,  without 
hearing  any  sound  of  repentant  feet  behind 
him,  he  swung  around,  mad  all  through,  and 
shouted  :  "  Todd  !  ' 

Echo  answered :  "  Todd !  " 

There  was  not  a  soul  in  the  street.  Todd 
had  evaporated. 

First  of  all  Manners,  in  an  alarming  tem- 
per, strode  back  to  the  house  in  front  of 
which  he  had  left  Todd  standing.  He  went 
into  the  area,  but  there  was  nobody  there; 
he  ascended  the  front  steps  and  tried  the 
door.  It  was  locked. 

Followed  then  the  obvious  theory  that 
Todd  had  run  away  from  him.  Where  do 
men  run  when  they  run  guiltily  away?  Logic 
7 


84  Sonic  Ladies  in  Haste 

answered  that  they  run  around  blocks;  so 
Manners  ran  around  the  block  in  the  oppo- 
site direction,  then  into  the  park.  Then,  wor- 
ried, panting  and  furious,  he  sat  down  on  a 
bench  and  fanned  his  streaming  features  \\ith 
his  hat. 

And  all  the  while  Todd  was  not  a  dozen 
||    auay    from    him.    standing   inside    the 
door  of  the  red-brick   IIOUM-  \\itli  the  single 
lighted  window. 

For  Todd,  when  he  had  lingered  to  gaze  at 
the  house,  noticed  that  the  front  door  stood  just 
ajar;  and  instantly  he  accepted  the  accident  as 
a  belated  promise  of  adventure  long  overdue. 

So  no  SOOIKT  did  Manner*  walk  off  in  a 
huff  on  pretense  of  abandoning  him  than 
he  sci/cd  the  opportunity  and  darted  up  the 
steps  burning  with  optimism  and  curiosity. 

^omebody  left  the  front  door  ajar;  rob 
bers  may  have  slipped  in,"  he  argued  with 
himself,  taking  a  firmer  grip  on  In-  slim 
malacca  walking  stick  as  he  pushed  open  the 
door  and  peeped  hopefully  into  the  dark  hall- 
way. 

Then  his  name  shouted  angrily  afar  by 
Manners  startled  him,  and,  stepping  inside 
the  hallway,  he  softly  closed  the  door.  At 


A  Remedy  85 

the  same  instant,  from  somewhere  above,  he 
heard  a  woman's  voice  raised  in  tremulous 
pleading — a  sweet,  thrilling  voice,  pitifully 
unsteady,  yet  every  word  exquisitely  distinct ; 
and  Todd,  frozen  to  attention,  listened,  his 
heart  in  his  mouth. 

"  O  Harry !  Harry !  Don't  drive  me  into 
tin-  street!"  were  the  first  sad  words  he 
heard.  "  You  swore  to  right  the  wrong  you 
did  me!  How — how  can  you  abandon  me, 
Harry  ?  How  c-can  you  fling  me  aside  to  die 
under  the  world's  cold  scorn  ?  " 

Todd,  in  the  darkness,  turned  a  fiery  red 
and  set  his  teeth  in  his  lower  lip. 

"  W-what  am  I  to  do  ?  "  pleaded  the  beau- 
tiful voice.  "  Where  can  I  turn  ? — where  can 
I  creep  to  bury  my  shame?  D-don't  cast 
me  away — don't  laugh  at  me  so  cruelly — 
Harry!  Harry!  Don't  strike  me! — Help! 
Murder- 

Todd's  hair  rose  straight  on  end ;  then  with 
a  shout  he  galloped  up  the  stairs,  swung 
around  the  banisters,  flew  up  the  second 
flight,  and  halted,  speechless,  confronted  by  a 
tall  young  girl  who  stood  on  the  landing,  the 
light  from  an  open  door  behind  throwing  her 
young  figure  into  motionless  silhouette. 


86  So)nc  I .adlcs  in  Haste 

"  W-what  are  you  doing  here?"  she  fal- 
ten 

D-doing?"  he  repeated  breathlessly. 
"  There's  somebody  being  murdered  in  this 
house  1 " 

"  What 

"Didn't   you   hear?"   ho   demanded,  stag- 
gered  by    her    frank   astonishment.     "  I    tell 
you   that   some    scoundrel    named    Harry    is 
:trmn-    :i    \\«m;m    \\ith  violence " 

"11    II  -he     stammered.    Staring     at 

him    incredulously.      u  What    do   you   mean? 
1  am  the  only  person  in  this  house." 

Then  she  took  t\\o  unstra<l\  steps  back 
into  her  gas-lit  room ;  he  saw  her  face  turn- 
ing from  a  startled  pallor  to  a  vi«»let  rosy 
tint;  she  caught  at  the  mantel  f«  >r  suj)j)ort, 
> \\a\e«l.  t.M.k  oiu-  last  look  at  Todd,  and, 
\\  itli  a  gesture  of  abandon,  covered  her  pretty 
face  with  both  hands.  lie  thought  she  was 
weeping. 

And  for  a  long  while  Todd  looked  at  her, 
bewildered,  because  her  voice  was  certainly 
the  voice  he  had  heard  in  heartbreaking  ap- 
peal to  Heaven. 

Was  she  attempting  to  shield  that  un- 
speakable Harry? 


A  Remedy  87 

Todd  inserted  his  head  in  the  doorway, 
glared  about  the  gas-lit  room,  stepped  in,  and 
craned  his  neck  to  see  whether  the  ruffian 
might  be  cowering  in  the  alcove. 

But  he  saw  only  a  desk  there,  and  piles  of 
typewritten  manuscript  covering  it.  And  on 
the  blue  covers  of  the  manuscript  he  noticed 
the  words :  "  Act  First." 

The  faintest  glimmering  of  the  actual  sit- 
uation dawned  on  him.  He  still  clutched  his 
stick  fiercely ;  the  light  of  battle  still  lingered 
in  his  eyes ;  but  his  stride  had  become  a  walk, 
he  sidled  toward  the  door,  glanced  uncertain- 
ly about,  hesitated;  then  gradually  a  partial 
solution  of  the  matter  overwhelmed  him,  leav- 
ing him  hot  with  embarrassment. 

She  dropped  her  hands  into  her  lap  and 
looked  at  him,  and  he  looked  foolishly  at  her ; 
then  again  her  hands  flew  to  her  face,  cov- 
ering it,  and  she  bent  forward,  resting  her 
elbows  on  her  knees.  But  Todd  understood 
that  the  tears  that  turned  her  blue  eyes 
starry  were  not  tears  of  grief. 

Todd  stood  very  still.  His  ears  seemed  to 
him  to  have  grown  unusually  red  and  hot 
and  big. 

Once  again  she  uncovered  her  face  to  look 


88  Some   Ladies  in   Haste 

at  him ;  once  again  she  wildly  veiled  it  be- 
hind ten  pretty  fingers.  And  at  last  Todd 
produced  upon  his  features  a  spasm  intended 
for  a  smile. 

It  was  not  a  very  genuine  attempt,  hut  it 
seemed  to  be  sufficient  to  rcint\vt  her.    That 
made  Todd  smile  again,  and  the  result 
less  forced  this  time. 

"  So  it  was  only  part  of  act  first,  all  that 
line  of  talk  about  Harry?  "  1  hravely. 

"  O-oh,  yes — only  p-p-part  of  act  f-fit 
she  managed  to  reply.     "  I'm  awfully  sm 

He  looked  at  her,  scar  convinced: 
"  Then  there  isn't  any  ;  There  IMI'I 
anybody  going  to  be  abandoned 

"  N  no;  nobody  is  going  to  abandon  any- 
bod 

"  Exactly.  Ah — it — ah — sounded  distress- 
ingly real." 

"Did  it?     I'm  awfully  sorr 

I  never  heard  such  p-pathos  in  a  human 
voice,"  insisted  Todd.  "  I  \\Mi  to  Heaven 
that  there  had  been  a  Harry  somewhere 
about." 

She  dropped  her  hands  and  gazed  at  him 
from  the  loveliest  and  brightest  blue  eyes  he 
had  ever  encountered. 


A  Remedy  89 

"  How,"  she  asked  curiously,  "  did  you  get 
into  my  house  ?  " 

"  Who  ?  —  Me  ?  "  he  faltered,  neglecting 
grammar  to  gain  time. 

"  Certainly,  you.  How  do  you  come  to  be 
here  in  this  house?  And  why?" 

"  The  front  door  was  ajar ;  that's  how.  I 
thought  thieves  might  have  taken  occasion  to 
sneak  in ;  that's  why.'9 

"  O  bother,"  she  said ;  "  I  never  can  get 
used  to  locking  up  my  own  house.  I  don't 
seem  to  be  able  to  remember  all  those  details 
— having  been  accustomed  to  servants.  Was 
it  actually  open  ?  " 

"  It  was." 

"  And  so  you  thought  you'd  see  whether 
any  robbers  had  crept  in  to  murder  me? 
And  you  came  fearlessly  to  investigate  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Todd,  modestly  admitting  his 
valor ;  "  and  I  should  like  to  have  had  a 
chance  at  that  fellow — Harry." 

"  I  see,"  she  said  thoughtfully.  "  That  was 
very  civil  of  you  to  come  upstairs  when  you 
heard  Mary  Meeker  pleading  with  Henry  St. 
Aubyn  for  her  life." 

"  Oh,  that  was  nothing,"  said  Todd,  turn- 
ing red. 


90  Some   I.inlics  in   Haste 

They  looked  at  one  another.  -tru-.-lm- 
against  the  inevitable ;  then  they  both  broke 
into  laughter  uncontrollable. 

"Did  I  —  \\.is  it  really  so  convincingly 
done  ?  "  she  tried  to 

"  IVrlVetK  !  1  \\ante-l  to  k-kill  that  man. 
I — I  want  to  harm  him 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad!     It  is  the  most  splen- 
did test!     Do  you  think  somebody  will 
the  play  and  produce  it?     And  <!<>  \«m  think 
it  \\ill  be  a   ra  And  <lo  yon  think  that 

some  great  emotional  actress  would  create  tin- 
part?  /> 

"  Yon  could  create  the  part,"  he  said  almost 
resentfully. 

"  I  ?  Why.  I  am  not  an  actress.  I  am 
only " 

Shr   stopp,-,!.   i.iixm-    l,rr   <  \es  to  him   \ 
gravel\.       "  I    think. 

"that  you  iiad  brtter  tell  me  who  you  are. 
Not  that  I  am  the  slightest  bit  afraid  or 
suspicious;  I  am  not  afraid  of  anything,  and 
have  not  been  for  three  months.  So,  if  you 
please,  who  are  v 

1  — Tin  only  Dudley  Todd,"  he  admittr.l. 

"  Dudley  Todd?  (  Hi;  my  brother  knows 
you  at  the  Lenox  Club.  I  am  Kvelyn  West/' 


A  Remedy  91 

'*  B-B-Billy  West's  s-s-sister !  "  he  stam- 
mered. 

"  Yes ;  not  the  pretty  one ;  the  eccentric 
one  who  has  taken  up  Settlement  work  and 
*  isms/  and  is  good  to  the  poor  and  has 
missions,  and  who  has  just  bought  this 
quaint  old  house  here  overlooking  East  River 
Park- 

"You!    Billy  West's " 

"  Yes ;  not  the  pretty  one.  And  I  live  here 
quite  alone,  and  don't  have  servants  because 
I  believe  in  equality,  but  can't  stand  having 
my  cook  on  my  visiting  list.  So  here  I  am, 
and  I'm  third  vice  president  of  a  working 
girls'  club,  and  I  do  neighborhood  work,  and 
I  am  going  to  graduate  from  the  Sloan  Ma- 
ternity some  day,  and,  when  nobody  requires 
me  as  a  trained  nurse  or  spiritual  adviser,  I 
—I  " — she  flushed  prettily — "  I  hope  to  write 
plays  to  educate  the  people — like  this  first 
play  you  heard  me  reading  to  myself.  I  hope 
to  reach  and  arouse  the  public  through  the 
medium  of  the  drama." 

"  Exactly,"  he  said,  fascinated. 

"  I  am  a  Socialist,"  she  said  firmly ;  "  I've 
been  one  for  three  months.  It  occurred  so 
oddly.  I  was  walking  along  Fifth  Avenue 


92  me   Ladies  in   Haste 

opposite  the  Lenox  Club,  and  as  I  walked 
I  happened  to  glance  up  at  the  club  window 
— oh,  I  am  very  careful  about  doing  such  a 
thing,  but  my  brother  is  sometimes  there,  and 
I  rather  like  to  see  him  with  the  head  of  his 
walking  stick  under  his  chin ;  he's  so  chubby 
and  cunning " 

She  smiled  confidently  at  Todd ;  and  Todd 
grew  giddy. 

"  So  I  glanced  up  as  I  passed,"  she  con- 
tinued ;  "  but  I  didn't  see  my  brother,  only  a 
rather  horrid  man  with  a  monocle  in  one  eye, 
staring  at  me " 

"Manners!"  breathed  Todd,  electrified. 
*  Very,  very  had  manners,"  she  said  un- 
consa<»usl\.  So  I  looked  straight  ahead 
and  walked  right  on.  ...  But — but — I  be- 
gan to  have  the  queerest  sensations  a  few 
moments  later!  I  " — she  hesitated,  looking 
at  Todd — "  I  was  a  very,  very  different  sort 
of  girl  three  months  ago,  Mr.  Todd.  I  was 
like  other  women — thoughtless,  light-hearted, 
unimaginative,  mediocre,  devoted  to  fri- 
volity—  and.  suddenly,  as  I  walked  on.  I 
began  to  feel  myself  changing,  my  whole 
character  changing,  and  awaking  into  a 
strangely  new  and  delightsome  personality ! 


A  Remedy  93 

...  I  wonder  if  you  believe  what  I  am 
saying?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  muttered  Todd ;  "  I  believe  it ; 
I  know  it.  Please  go  on." 

"  Thank  you.  Somehow  I  knew  you  would 
believe  me.  Somehow,  the  moment  I  saw 
you  I  knew  I  was  not  afraid  of  you — even 
though  you  shouted  so  abruptly  and  came 
clattering  so  fiercely  upstairs.  I — it's  a  curi- 
ous thing — an  almost  incredible  thing  to  ad- 
mit— but  do  you  know,  Mr.  Todd,  that  some- 
how your  coming  didn't  astonish  me  very 
much?" 

"  D-didn't  it  ? "  stammered  Todd  raptur- 
ously. 

"  No.  Not  that  I  was  expecting  you — 
not  that  I  ever  even  thought  of  you — 
even  knew  you  by  sight.  Yet  it  seemed  quite 
in  order  to  see  you  come  charging  in  here 
to  my  rescue.  And  when  you  told  me  your 
name  I  had  an  odd  feeling  that  matters  were 
happening  as  they  ought  to  happen  —  as 
they  were  bound  to  happen.  ...  I  wonder 
whether  you  understand  me  ?  " 

"  Perfectly,"  he  murmured,  under  the  spell 
of  her  sweet  sincerity. 

"  Very  well,  then ;  I  will  just  say  this :  that 


94  Some   I. tidies  in   Haste 

three  months  ago  I  was  another  woman,  and 
to-day  I  am  my  real  self  —  fresh  from  the 
chrysalis  of  the  past,  awakened  from  twenty 
years  of  emotionless  immaturity  to  emerge 
into  the  world  and  bear  my  part  of  its  sor- 
rows and  its  burdens,  and  to  do  my  part 
toward  its  betterment.  And  that  is  all,  .  .  . 
about  myself.  ...  Mr.  Todd." 
I'K.iM.  please,  go  on." 

"Why.  what  more  is  there  to  say?"  she 
asked  laughing  i  know  all  about  me 

now.     You  know  I  am  absolutely  uncom<  n 
tional,  unafraid,  and — and  audacious  enough 
to  offer  you  a  chair — at  midnight — alone  \\itli 
me  in  this  h<> 

And  she  rose  and  indicated  a  chair  on  her 
left  with  a  gesture  of  delicate  auda 

The  mixture  of  Socialism  and  unconven- 
tionality  combined  with  the  charm  and  fear- 
less poise  of  a  young  girl,  bred  in  the  world, 
produced  an  ensemble  so  sweet,  so  piquant. 
so  adorable,  that  Todd  sat  bolt  upright  on  his 
chair  beside  her,  u  rapped  in  a  blissfully  im- 
becile daze. 

"  I  don't  care  what  an  artificial  and  self- 
conscious  society  mi^ht  think  of  this,  do  you, 
Mr.  Todd?"  she  asked. 


A  Remedy  95 

"Not  a  bit,"  said  Todd.  Her  eyes  were 
very  friendly ;  her  glance  wandered  over  him 
with  a  confident  but  thoughtful  curiosity. 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  came,"  she  said. 
"  Will  you  come  again  ?  " 

"  Yes ! ! ! !  "  exclaimed  Todd  so  fervently, 
that  she  flushed. 

"  I  wonder  whether  you'd  be  interested  in 
Settlement  work — in  my  work  here  among  the 
poor?"  she  ventured. 

"  I  am,"  said  Todd  warmly.  "  I've  a  lot 
of — I — well,  an  uncle  of  mine  left  me  some 
money.  Do  you  want  it  ?  " 

"  Want  it !  "  she  repeated  blankly. 

"For  the  poor!" 

"  I — why,  Mr.  Todd — I  couldn't — it  is  very 
generous — 

"  But  I  want  to  spend  it  on  all  these  Dagos 
and  gutter  snipes !  "  he  said  earnestly.  "  I 
want  to  convert  the  yeggmen  and  be  good  to 
them  with  pamphlets  and  soup.  Til  give  'em 
anything  you  say — new  hats,  gum  drops,  hos- 
pitals, anything  you'd  like  'em  to  enjoy." 

His  generous  emotion  set  a  faint  pink  fire 
in  her  cheeks. 

"  But  it  wouldn't  do  to  give  indiscriminate- 
ly," she  said,  leaning  a  trifle  nearer  toward 


96  Some   I. miles  in   Haste 

him.     "  Besides,  I  don't  quite  see  how  I  am 
going  to  accept  your  financial  aid " 

"Please  let  me,"  he  pleaded.  "  I— I've 
been  wandering  around  loose  for  the  last 
three  months,  making  lots  of  money  and  hav- 
ing adventures,  but  I  didn't  know  what  I 
really  wanted  until  I  saw  you." 

"Me!" — the  vivid  tint  spreading  on  IKT 
lovely  face. 

Yes  —  I  want  —  want  you!  —  but  I  won't 
speak  of  that  just  now;  I'll  confine  my  sug- 
gestions to  this  business  of  first  aid  to  the 
indigent  Dago,  and  I  hope  you'll  let  me  build 
a  hospital  for  you — 

She  lay  back  in  IKT  chair,  blue  eyes  starry 
and  wide,  and  the  bright  color  grew  and 
faded  with  every  quick-drawn  breath  as  she 
uutchcd  him,  fascinated,  while  he  spoke  with 
all  the  eager  boyish  impulsiveness  of  a  young 
man  suddenly  and  hopefully  in  love. 

r  there  was  no  chance  to  misunderstand ; 
his  every  feature,  every  gesture  told  the  story, 
and  the  light  in  his  eyes  betrayed  it.  and  the 
very  sound  of  his  voice  confessed  it,  and  her 
nun  pulse  mechanically  echoed  the  avoual, 
beating  out  unsteadily  its  irrevocable  confir- 
mation. 


A  Remedy  97 

Love!  To  come  like  this!  Suddenly, 
swiftly,  irresistibly,  like  this !  Love ! — to  come 
so  abruptly,  filling  his  heart  as  he  met  her 
eyes,  dominating  him  soul  and  body  and 
mind,  so  that  it  usurped  his  own  personality 
and  enslaved  every  power  of  it,  using  his  eyes 
and  lips  for  its  own  purposes. 

And  the  purpose  of  love  was  to  make  her 
understand,  admit,  believe,  marvel,  and  be 
afraid. 

She  was  afraid. 

Then  the  love,  newborn,  looked  out  at  her 
through  his  eyes  while  he  was  talking  excit- 
edly about  hospitals ;  and  she  heard  his  words 
as  in  a  dream,  but  sat  spellbound  under  the 
revelation  from  his  eyes. 

He  talked  and  talked  and  talked,  and 
Heaven  knows  he  was  prosy — but  she  did  not 
think  so,  lying  back  there  in  her  chair,  wide- 
eyed,  thrilled,  tremulous  of  lid  and  lip,  as 
the  undertone  of  love,  sounding  persistently 
through  his  platitudes,  swept  her  like  a  ca- 
ress, and  set  the  rose  fire  creeping  across 
her  cheeks. 

Socialism,  equality,  freedom,  and  the  un- 
trammeled  expression  of  it,  fearless  confi- 
dence, the  repudiation  of  all  that  is  artificial : 


g&  Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

these  had  been  the  vows  she  had  taken.    She 
understood,  she  remembered. 

And  now,  with  all  the  strength  and  instinct 
and  passion  of  her  young  soul  and  heart,  she 
was  struggling  against  the  creed  she  had  con- 
fessed—  struggling,  bewildered,  rejecting  its 
confession  from  his  lips. 

Turmoil  in  the  confessional — for  her  heart 
was  that  dim  sanetuar\  :  n  volt  in  mind  and 
body,  and  anathema  for  the  penitent — as  she 
rose,  breathless,  cheeks  aflame,  arms  out- 
stretched in  a  sudden  gesture  that  at  the 
same  time  silenced  him  and  shielded  herself — 
silenced  him  for  an  instant  only  ;  shielded  her- 
self very  badly. 

For— oh,  incredible! — he  had  caught  her 
hands  in  his.  her  soft,  white  hands.  l>,,th  of 
them,  that  twisted  fiercely  as  though  to  hurt 
him,  not  to  escape. 

"  All  this  talk,"  he  stammered,  "  means 
only  one  thing !  " 

"  D-don't  say   it !  "  she  gasped. 

"  Will  you  not  believe  it  ?  " 

"  I — yes!  I  know  it  is  so;  I  know  how  it 
is  with  us — what  has  happened.  But  I  can- 
not endure  it — so  quickly — to — to  have  you 
— take  me — this  way " 


A  Remedy  99 

"  You  are  already  taken,"  he  whispered, 
mastering  her  hands. 

"  I  know  it — prisoner — in  my  own  house." 
.  .  .  Her  hands  fell  limp,  she  drew  a  deep, 
sweet  breath,  and  slowly,  very  slowly,  raised 
her  eyes  to  his. 

"  Be  merciful,"  she  said.  "  The  silk  of  the 
old  regime  still  clothes  me  under  these  red 
rags  of  emancipation." 

"  I   know,"   he   said,  his  soul   in  his  eyes. 

Then,  paling,  she  raised  her  hands,  and  he 
drew  them  close  against  his  lips. 

"  Good  night,"  she  whispered. 

"  To-morrow  ?  " 

"  Y-yes." 

"And  always,  after  that?  Always?  For- 
ever and  ever — until — 

"  Yes." 

About  one  o'clock  that  morning,  Manners, 
squatting  distractedly  upon  a  bench  in  the 
park,  perceived  a  shadowy  form,  apparently 
a  prey  to  religious  exaltation,  wandering 
about  under  the  trees,  arms  upflung,  face 
lifted  to  heaven. 

"  Todd !  "  he  cried,  bounding  to  his  feet. 
Then  the  desire  for  battle  overwhelmed  him, 
8 


ioo         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

and  he  charged  headlong  upon  Todd  and  as- 
saulted him.  And  they  had  a  splendid  time 
there  all  alone  under  the  stars. 

"  Beast!  "  panted  Manners,  blocking  an  up- 
per cut  and  countering.  And  Todd  came 
back  joyously  on  the  nose,  and  they  mi\<<l 
it  again  until,  breathless,  speechless,  and  sat- 
isfied, they  staggered  apart  and  sat  down  on 
the  same  bench. 

"  Careful  about  your  nose,  old  fellow." 
panted  Todd ;  "  don't  hold  it  over  my 
knees." 

So  Manners  held  his  nose  over  the  ^rass 
like  a  gentleman,  and  Todd  lent  him  another 
handkerchief. 

44  That  was  fine,  wasn't  it?"  said  Man- 
ners. "  \\  e  must  do  it  again  with  six- 
ounce  gloves 

"  Certainly."  replied  Todd  affectionately, 
as  Manners  rose  and  started  toward  the  street. 
And,  linking  his  arm  in  his  friend's  arm.  In- 
looked  up  blissfully  at  the  stars. 

After  a  long  time,  during  which,  from  mo- 
ment to  moment.  Manners  furtively  pressed 
the  borrowed  handkerchief  to  his  nose,  they 
came  into  Fifth  Avenue  and  headed  south- 
ward toward  the  Lenox  Club. 


A  Remedy  101 

"  And  now,"  said  Manners,  "  perhaps  you 
had  better  tell  me  what  happened  to  you." 

But  Todd  only  shook  his  head  dreamily  and 
raised  his  eyes  to  the  star-set  sky. 

"  No,"  he  murmured,  "  not  until  it  is  an- 
nounced." 

Manners  turned  perfectly  cold. 

"  Announced  !  "  he  repeated  threateningly. 

"  Yes ;  to  Billy  West's  sister — not  the  pretty 
one.  God  bless  you,  William." 

But  Manners  was  past  all  speech. 


CHAPTER   V 


A   GUILTY    MAN 

IT  was  now  generally  known, 
in  the  Lenox  Club,  that  M;m 
had  suddenly  discovered 
himself  to  be  endowed  \\ith 
tin-  uncanny  power  of  influ- 
encing his  tVll<>w -beings  through  mental  sug- 
gestion. 

The  strange  experiences  of  Eric  Kelvin,  the 
amazing  adventures  of  Dudley  Todd,  were 
new  almost  the  sole  topic  of  conversation  in 
the  club. 

Outwardly,  the  attitude  and  apparently  the 

102 


A  Guilty  Man  103 

friendship  of  the  club  members  had  not 
changed  toward  Manners ;  inwardly  he  had 
become  an  object  of  fearful  curiosity  to  them. 
And  the  awe  of  him  continued. 

When  he  entered  a  room  abruptly  an  agree- 
able sensation  of  dread  seized  every  man  pres- 
ent. 

When  he  punched  the  service  button  with 
the  ferrule  of  his  walking  stick  dozens  of 
eyes  observed  him  furtively ;  when  the  ice 
tinkled  in  his  glass,  and  the  contents  of  the 
siphon  fizzed  in  it,  the  more  timid  and  callow 
members  effervesced  in  sympathy. 

Yet  even  the  timid  ones  never  became 
frightened  enough  to  avoid  Manners,  and  in 
the  hearts  of  the  bolder  men  grew  a  curiously 
delightful  foreboding  which  became,  at  mo- 
ments, a  horrid  sort  of  hope  that  Manners 
might  practice  his  necromancy  upon  them, 
give  them  the  dreaded  mental  absent  treat- 
ment for  their  several  shortcomings,  and  com- 
mand for  them  a  few  more  of  the  delicate 
and  beautiful  visions  which  he  had  summoned 
out  of  the  vasty  metropolitan  deep  as  lovely 
life  comrades  for  Kelvin  and  Todd. 

For  those  bidden  to  the  wedding  of  Kelvin 
wandered  back,  stunned  by  the  bride's  young 


104          Sonic   Ladies  /;/   Haste 

beauty.  Those  summoned  to  rejoice  at  the 
bridal  feast  of  Todd  returned  to  the  club 
maddened  with  the  hope  that  Manners  mi^lit 
meddle  with  them ;  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
a  deputation  of  five  confirmed  bachelors  did 
actually  approach  him  as  he  was  in  the  act 
of  consuming  bis  cereal  breakfast,  with  the 
bashful  suggestion  that  he  practice  ab>ent 
treatment  on  them  while  they  \\rre  d«>\\n- 
t<>\\n,  and  guarantee  them  a  bride  apiece. 

But  Manners.  M  n-itive  on  the  subject,  be- 
came angry,  and  the  disconcerted  deputation 
fled  at  his  fir-t  \\onl  of  rebuke,  fearful  that 
be  infill  transform  them  into  a  bunch  of 
something  obnoxious,  and  entertaining  in 
their  secret  souls  no  doubt  of  his  ability  to 
do  so. 

Manners  had  become  M -native  on  the  sub 
ject  of  his  unusual  power.  What  he  had  done 
to  Kelvin  and  his  bride,  and  what  they  had 
done  to  him,  had  shaken  him  up.  On  the 
heels  of  that  had  come  the  denouement  of 
Todd's  case  with  Hilly  West's  sister;  and  al- 
though these  two  matters  had  fortunately  left 
nobody  miserable  except  himself,  he  remem- 
bered remorsefully  the  practices  he  had  at- 
tempted upon  others,  and  his  curiosity  as  to 


A  Guilty  Man  105 

what  might  happen  to  the  attractive  but  un- 
known maidens  whom  he  had  treated  men- 
tally without  their  knowledge  amounted  at 
moments  to  a  sort  of  terror. 

Such  a  moment  had  come  to  him  a  day  or 
two  before  as,  according  to  his  custom,  he 
sat  searching  the  columns  of  the  newspapers 
for  any  reports  of  extraordinary  or  outra- 
geous conduct  on  the  part  of  hitherto  deco- 
rous young  women. 

And  he  had  encountered  a  paragraph  which 
disturbed  him  greatly — an  account  of  the  il- 
logical behavior  of  a  youthful  orphan  maiden, 
whose  suddenly  developed  eccentricities  were 
now  the  gossip  of  the  Berkshires. 

This  paragraph  he  had  carefully  cut  out, 
meaning  to  show  it  to  young  Stephen  Gray, 
who  had  recently  acquired  a  country  place  in 
the  Berkshires  near  Lenox ;  and  so  when 
Gray  arrived,  and  they  met  at  the  club  for 
breakfast,  Manners  took  occasion  to  produce 
the  clipping  and  reread  it  to  himself  in  the 
faint  hope  of  persuading  himself  that  he  had 
no  hand  in  the  matter,  and  that,  after  all, 
he  need  not  mention  it  to  Gray.  Yet,  curi- 
ously enough,  he  was  perfectly  possessed  to 
talk  about  it  to  somebody,  and  once  more 


io6         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

he  lay  back  in  his  chair  and.  dropping  his 
monocle  from  his  eye,  began  to  devour  the 
quarter  column  of  print,  leaving  his  innocent 
cereal  untasted. 

Young  Gray  sipped  his  coffee  and  watched 
him.  Manners  had  treated  Gray  experimen- 
tally, but  he  didn't  know  that  (iray  kneu  it. 
He  had  treated  him  for  a  conspicuous  absence 
of  artistic  common  sense — (iray  being  in  the 
sign  and  advertising  IHIMIK •  — .  \\liich  covered 
town  and  country  with  the  disfigurements  of 
Glory  Soap  and  Bylou's  Hal 

As  Manners  had  noticed  no  diminution  of 
billboard  atrocities  in  town,  suburb,  or  conn 
try.  he  began  to  believe  that  hi>  mental 
gestions   to    (iray    had   cither   failed    or,   like 
wireless  messages,  had  gone  a-tr,i\   and  been 
intercepted  by  somcbod\  for  \\honi  they  were 
not  intended;  so,  seeing  no  particular  mental 
or  physical  improvement  in  (iray.  he  had  not 
thought  it  necessary  to  confess  to  him. 

Meanwhile  (iray.  putting  two  and  two  to- 
gether, became  suspicious  that  he  had  1 
one  of  Manners'*  victims.  His  sudden  hatred 
for  his  own  vandal  business  strengthened  the 
suspicion  ;  certainty  .settled  upon  him  \\hen  he 
found  himself  the  possessor  of  a  farmhouse 


A  Guilty  Man  107 


studio  near  Lenox  and  an  unsuspected  talent 
for  art;  and,  amazed  and,  at  times,  furious 
with  himself,  he  spent  every  spare  moment  in 
his  new  country  studio,  where  he  began  to 
turn  out  landscapes  in  oils,  marines  in  water 
colors,  statuettes  in  clay  and  wax  and  marble, 
at  a  rate  calculated  to  alarm  an  Art  Nouveau 
factory. 

And  meanwhile  his  advertising  business  was 
being  rapidly  ruined  by  his  neglect  of  it,  and 
a  rival  company  was  taking  what  remained  of 
his  business  away  from  him. 

But  all  these  things  he  kept  tucked  away  in 
the  back  of  his  head,  making  no  sign  to  Man- 
ners or  to  anybody  of  what  was  happening. 
And  every  week  or  two  he  came  to  town  to 
sell  his  pictures.  In  vain. 

Now,  he  sat  there,  sipping  his  coffee  at  in- 
tervals, quietly  interested  in  the  growing  un- 
easiness which  was  creeping  over  Manners's 
handsome  features.  And,  as  Manners  read 
on,  the  conviction  that  he  was  responsible  for 
what  he  was  reading  gripped  him  till  he  shud- 
dered. 

*  Well,"  asked  Gray,  "  is  it  the  market 
that's  upsetting  your  nerves?  " 

"  Upsetting  who?  "  demanded  Manners  with 


io8         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

a  start ;  then,  attempting  to  recover  his  self- 
possession,  he  leaned  one  elbow  carelessly  on 
the  table  and  pretended  to  yawn. 

"  Your  elbow's  in  your  oatmeal,"  observed 
Gray  coldly. 

Confused  and  humiliated,  Manners  suf- 
fered a  servant  to  remove  the  traces  of  mis- 
hap. 

"  William,"  said  Gray  curiously,  "  you  are 
acting  like  a  criminal  in  danger  of  detection 
Besides,  you  look  like  one.    What's  the  mat- 
ter?   What's  that  clipping?" 

Suddenly  guilt  overcame  Manners,  and  with 
it  the  instinctive  and  panicky  determin.it i»n 
to  conceal  his  guilt  by  loquacity — to  smother 
suspicion  by  actually  inviting  a  discussion  of 
his  crime.  A  mad  desire  to  talk  about  it 
overcame  a  cooler  judgment ;  the  scared  and 
cicncc-ridden  malefactor  was  predomi- 
nant in  him.  fascinated  by  the  evil  that  he  had 
wrought,  terrified  that  it  had  been  made  pub- 
lic in  print. 

And  even  now,  shocked  as  he  had  been  by 
Gray's  apparently  innocent  inquiry.  Manners 
knew  that  he  could  not  long  have  refrained 
from  calling  somebody's  attention  to  the  re- 
port in  the  newspapers ;  could  not  have  resist- 


A  Guilty  Man  109 

ed  the  mania  to  drag  in  the  subject  that 
haunted  his  conscience. 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  he  said  frankly,  "  I 
was  a  little  upset  by  a  very  sad  occurrence 
which  I've  been  reading  about  in  the  paper. 
You  know,  Stephen,  what  a  sensitive  and 
sympathetic  nature  I  have.  Any  misfortune 
that  happens  in  the  world  affects  me  vio- 
lently. It's  foolish,  it's  unmanly,  but — b-b- 
but- 

"  Don't  blubber/'  said  Gray;  "I  can't  un- 
derstand what  you're  saying." 

"  I  c-can't  help  it,"  repeated  Manners, 
dashing  the  unmanly  moisture  from  his  mon- 
ocle, "  because  I've  just  been  reading  the  sad- 
dest paragraph  in  the  p-p-paper — 

He  choked,  adding  with  an  effort :  "  It's 
about  such  a  foolishness " 

"A— «*of?" 

"  It's  about  a  young  girl — a  certain  Miss 
Valdes — of  Lenox " 

"Miss  Valdes!" 

"  Y-yes.  She  lives  up  your  way.  You 
don't  happen  to  know  her,  I  hope— 

"  Do  you  mean  that  very  young  girl — you 
don't  mean  Diana  Valdes ! "  exclaimed  Gray. 

"  Yes,  I  do." 


1 10         Some  I.mlics  in  lid 

"William!  What  has  happened  to  her'" 
cried  Gray,  half  rising  to  his  feet  in  his  ex- 
citement. 

"  Do  you  know  her 

"  No — that  is,  I've  seen  her  every  summer 
for  years!  Ever  since  she  was  a  child — 

14  Then,  if  that's  all,  you're  making  quite  a 
hullabaloo/'  returned  the  other,  taking  refuge 
from  his  own  growing  alarm  in  the  effrontery 
of  bad  temper.  "  1  thought  at  least  you  must 
be  engaged  to  her  by  the  way  you  began 
jumping  around  the  room." 

He  paused,  but  Gray  made  no  observation ; 
and,  supposing  he  had  squelched  him,  Man- 
ners went  on  : 

"According  to  this  m  \\xpaj,,  r<  it  \\mild  ap- 
pear that    Mi—    \alilrs    h,-^    hern    rxhil.- 
symptoms  of  classical  eccentru  it\          What's 
the  matter,  (.ra\  f     I  >i«l  anything  sting  y<» 

"  What  symptoms  ? "  demanded  Gray,  ig- 
noring the  question. 

Why,"  continued  Manners,  moistening 
his  lips,  dry  from  increasing  fright  as  he  be- 
gan to  realize  Cira\  -  personal  interest  in  the 
affair,  "  she's  got  into  the  habit  of  going  off 
l>\  herself  for  days  at  a  time;  hiding  hermit 
in  the  fields  and  bushes  and  woods  of  her 


A  Guilty  Man  in 

big  country  place  there.  You've  heard  that 
she  has  a  huge  and  beautiful  wooded  es- 
tate- 

"  Yes ;  go  on  !  " 

"  W-well,  don't  shout  at  me  that  way, 
Stephen." 

"  I'm  not  shouting.  Besides,  this  dining 
room  is  empty.  Go  on  !  " 

"  You  did  shout ;  and  my  nerves  are  not 
what  they  once  were.  .  .  .  What  are  you 
glaring  about?  I'm  going  on,  I  tell  you. 
Anybody'd  think  you  were  in  love  with  her, 
fidgeting  about  like  that !  I  know  her  as  well 
as  you  do;  I've  never  seen  her,  but  Mrs.  Kel- 
vin knows  her  and  has  told  me  all  about  her. 
So  don't  get  gay  with  me,  Stephen." 

And  he  waved  the  newspaper  clipping  and 
continued,  sometimes  quoting  from  the  ac- 
count, sometimes  delivering  a  resume  of  the 
affair  in  his  own  language : 

"  Her  servants  became  very  anxious  over 
her  repeated  and  prolonged  disappearances, 
scouring  the  woods  and  hills  of  the  estate  for 
some  trace  of  their  beautiful  mistress— 
And,  turning  a  wavering  eye  on  Gray: 
"  What  the  deuce  do  you  suppose  they  found 
out  she  was  doing,  Stephen  ?  " 


1 12         Some  Ladies  in  Ilu. 

"  Go  on,"  responded  Gray  between  his 
teeth,  "or  I'll  hit  you  \\itli  the  toast  rack!" 

"  I  am.  You're-  in  a  na>ty  temper  this  A.M. 
Well,  then;  Miss  YaMes.  it  seems,  lias  con- 
cluded to  become  a  goddess " 

"A  w*a/?" 

"  A  goddess.  Didn't  you  hear  what  I  said  ? 
She  insists  that  it  is  the  only  sane,  wholesome, 
and  logical  outdoor  life  to  lead.  And  so  she 
runs  about  the  woods  with  only  a  bow  and 
arrow,  and  a  half  moon  stuck  in  her  hair— 

"  William  !  " 

'  Well,  that's  what  the  paper  says,"  faltered 
Manners.  "  You  can  read  it  yourM  li.  \«>u  un- 
mannerly dub!  That's  what  it  says — 

"  Wearing  only  a  b-b-bow  and  arrow  and 
a  crescent!"  \\himpered  Gray,  utterly  un- 
nerved. 

"Na-aw!      Who    said    that?      She    v. 
some  drapery,  of  course,  and  sandals,  and  she 
chases  the  dappled  deer.    A  Tribune  reporter 
caught  sight  of  her  running  like  fury- 
Do  you — does  that  fool  newspaper  mean 
to  make  us  believe  that  the  indolent,  indif- 
ferent, and  statuesquely  classical  Miss  Valdes 
goes   racing  over  the    Berkshires   c-clad   in 
cheese  cloth  and  a  crescent 


A  Guilty  Man  113 

"  Sure  thing/'  replied  Manners  despondent- 
ly. "  She's  a  changed  girl ;  she  tells  people 
she's  invented  a  new  health  idea,  and  she  calls 
it  the. Olympian  cure;  and  the  way  you  do 
it  is  to  go  out  with  as  little  clothing  on  as 
possible,  and  chase  everything  that  runs  away 
from  you." 

"William!"  cried  Gray  distractedly,  "do 
you  believe  she  has  buzz  wheels?  Da  you?" 

"  Nonsense !  "  said  Manners,  paling ;  "  it's 
only  that  she  now  prefers,  in  her  leisure  mo- 
ments, to  go  bounding  about  like  Diana 
instead  of  taking  ornamental  siestas  in  ham- 
mocks, or  lolling  about  all  day  under  a  parti- 
colored sunshade.  Here,  read  it  yourself,"  he 
added,  thrusting  the  newspaper  clipping  at 
Gray,  and  employing  his  handkerchief  to  wipe 
the  cold  perspiration  from  his  visage. 

Gray  took  the  clipping  and  read  in  horri- 
fied silence.  Manners  watched  him,  trying 
vainly  the  while  to  manage  a  roll  and  a  cup 
of  coffee.  Both  choked  him  ;  he  couldn't  eat ; 
his  appetite  had  vanished  with  his  peace  of 
mind  in  the  certainty  that  this  unfortunate 
girl  was  one  of  his  hitherto  unknown  victims. 

"What  do  you  think  about  it?"  asked 
Manners  wretchedly. 


ii4         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

Think  of  it?"  repeated  Gray. 
Sf-yes;  what  do  you  think  makes  her  act 
like  that?    W-w-wheels 

Gray  turned  red  and  his  eyes  began  to  look 
dangerous,  but  he  said  very  calmly :  "  Nix 
for  the  wheels.  If  a  girl  wants  to  do  the  un- 
conventional within  the  walls  of  her  own  es- 
tate, I  think  she  might  be  allowed  to  without 
all  this  clamor  in  the  newspapt  i 

"  S-s-so  do  I,"  said  Manners  with  a  shiver. 

1  think  so,  too." 

"  If."  continued  Gray,  "  Miss  Valdes  wants 
to  wear  cheese-cloth  skirts  and  Grecian  san- 
dals and  go  about  potting  sparrows  with  a 
bow  and  arrow,  why  shouldn't  she?  The  old 
Greek  costume  is  far  healthier  and  far  more 
beautiful  than  the  skirts  and  corsets  of  to-day. 
And,  as  for  the  archery  practice,  why  not? 
It's  fashionable  to  revive  the  quaint  pastimes 
and  sports  of  the  past.  Tin •>  are  taking  up 
falconry  in  France ;  they  ride  the  lists  in  the 
Cammargue;  you've  heard  of  the  Marathon 
race,  haven't  you?  And  of  the  Olympian 
games,  where  they  are  hurling  the  discus 
again?" 

"  Certainly,"  nodded  Manners  hopefully, 
"  and  even  in  the  time  of  Nero  they  played 
Red  Lion. 


A  Guilty  Man  115 

"  Well,  then,"  continued  Gray,  "  it's  prob- 
ably quite  natural  and  instinctive  for  Miss 
Valdes  to  revive  in  herself  the  charming  and 
graceful  pastimes  of  Diana/'  He  paused  and 
fixed  a  withering  eye  upon  Manners,  who 
promptly  began  to  tremble.  "  I  say  it  is  prob- 
ably natural  for  Miss  Valdes  to  do  this.  But 
if  it  isn't  natural — if  some  confounded,  im- 
pertinent, mischief-making,  idle,  and  wealthy 
young  pup  has  ventured  mentally  to  suggest 
to  this  innocent  girl  any  such  games  and 
practices — 

Manners,  pale  and  astounded  at  the  dis- 
covery of  his  guilt,  pushed  back  his  chair 
violently  and  rose  to  his  feet  prepared  for 
fight. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  demanded 
Gray.  "  Sit  <l«.\\n  !  " 

"  D-d-do  you  c-care  for  her?  " 

"  Ya-as,"  said  Gray,  "I  do !  Sit  down  or 
I'll  attack  \ou!" 

"  What  are  you  g-going  to  do  about  it?" 
stammered  Manners,  dropping  instinctively 
into  the  popular  attitude  of  self-defense. 

"  William  !  William  !  I  don't  know  what 
I  am  going  to  do  about  it.  I  want  to  do 
something  primitive  —  throw  everything  on 
9 


n6         Some  I. miles  in  Haste 

the  table  at  you,  for  example — hut  I'm  not 
going  to;  I  want  to  run  utter  \«>u  and,  at  the 
end  of  a  savage  and  terrihle  chase*  corner 
you  and  destroy  you.  Hut  I'm  not  going  to 
do  that,  either.  As  for  delivering  you  to  the 
police,  \N  hut's  the  use?  Tlu  \  wouldn't  believe 
it  of  you.  Wizard!  Witch  doctor!  Con- 
jurer  " 

"  Besides,  they  ini^ht  believe  something 
queerer  about  you''  retorted  Manners  \\itli 
dignity.  And,  becoming  irritated :  **  See  here ; 
I  don't  mind  tin-  names  you  call  me.  hut.  if 
you  think  of  assaulting  me.  I'll  ti^ht  \\itli  the 
fury  of  despair.  Ask  Todd.  Besides,  I'm 
horribly  mortified  and  sorry  for  what  1  did 
to  Miss  Valdes — 

What's  the  good  of  being  sorry  and  mor- 
tified?" demanded  (Iray.  hammering  on  the 
table  with  doubled  fV-t  "She's  the  m..-t  at 
tractive  Ljirl  I  ever  saw,  and  you've  turned  her 
into  a  side  show,  und  jjiven  her  the  ambitions 
of  a  spear  carrier  in  the  '  P.lark  Crook  '! 

"  But  you  said  yourself  that  it  ua-  natural 
for  her  to  act  that  way — 

You  put  her  up  to  it!    You  voodoo  doc- 
tor1 

"Well— what  if  I  did?    Isn't  it  fashionable 


A  Guilty  Man  117 

to  revive  ancient  sports  and  pastimes?  Be- 
sides, what  have  I  ever  done  to  you  to  be 
injuriously  described  as  a  voodoo — 

"  You  impudent  dabbler  in  second-hand 
magic ! "  shouted  Gray  in  impotent  fury. 
"  You've  ruined  my  advertising  and  publicity 
business!  That's  \\liat  you've  done  to  me! 
And  you've  turned  me  into  a  tenth-rate  land- 
scape painter!  Even  this  club  rejects  my 
l>i<  tares  as  gifts — 

"\\Vre  those  awful  daubs  yours?"  ex- 
claimed Manners. 

"  Yes,  they  were!  And  I  stood  by  and  saw 
you  laugh  at  them  when  the  board  of  gov- 
ernors rejected  them  !  And  now  you've  taken 
a  lovely,  scarcely  mature  orphan  maiden,  cel- 
ebrated in  Lenox  for  her  lazy  repose,  languid 
beauty,  and  ab-ent -minded  indifference,  and 
turned  her  into  a  classical  tomboy,  and  set 
her  racing  madly  about  the  backwoods  like  a 
demented  white  rabbit  with  the  pip!" 

Manners  stared  at  him  in  horror,  opened 
his  mouth  to  deny  everything;  then,  as 
though  stunned,  dropped  both  arms  on  the 
table  and  laid  his  head  between  them. 

Gray  gazed  at  him  for  a  moment  enraged, 
but  after  a  while  his  visage  softened. 


n8         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

'  I  don't  mean  to  be  too  hard  on  you/*  he 
said.  "  What  can  we  do  about  this  matter?" 

Manners  moaned. 

"  Something's  got  to  be  done,  of  course," 
insisted  Gray  ;  "  and  you'd  better  begin  !  I  f 
\«»u  don't.  I'll  run  at  you!  " 

"I  can't!"  groaned  Manners;  1  don't 
know  how  to  work  it  backward  ;  I  can't  re- 
verse mental  suggestion.  Great  IIra\m.  man. 
if  I  omld.  d«»n't  \<m  think  I  \\onld?  I  >•  •  \  •  >u 
think  I'd  let  you  go  on  painting  those  auful 
pictures?  Do  you  think  I'd  permit  this 
\uiing  tfirl  to  risk  catching  cold  in  her  cheese 
cloth,  buskins,  and  crescent?'  I'd  rather  see 
Bylow's  Baby  Food  frescoed  all  over  the  new 
public  library  than  ^ri\i  \»n  the  contract  to 
decorate  it.  I  thought  there  was  nothing 
u<'rT  than  I  ilnry  Snap.  Thi  'id  you've 

produced  it!  1  treated  >«»u  for  lack  of  artis- 
tic appreciation,  expecting  you  to  clear  the 
Hudson  Valley  of  your  defacing  billboards. 
I'.nt  \mi  immediately  began  to  produce 
Fourth  Avenue  Corots,  and  your  technic  was 
not  Fontainehlean  but  Hylow  -  " 


up  mi  my  art."  protested  Gray,  in- 
censed. "  It  may  not  be  good,  but  I  likr  it. 
And  I  must  say  it's  pretty  shabby  of  you, 


A  Guilty  Man  119 

William,  to  set  me  painting  landscapes  and 
then  never  even  offer  to  buy  one — 

"  Gray  !  I  cant  buy  one  of  those  things  !  I 
can't  stand  'em— 

"  You've  got  to !  You  owe  me  something. 
My  advertising  business  is  utterly  ruined. 
It's  only  fair  that  you  create  a  market  for  my 
pictures.  I  tell  you,  Manners,  you  ought  to 
begin  collecting  my  landscapes  for  a  private 
gallery  of  your  own ;  that's  the  way  to  launch 
me ;  that's  the  way  to  create  a  public  furore 
for  my  works.  Let  it  be  known  widely  that 
the  wealthy  and  fashionable  young  connois- 
seur, William  Manners,  Esquire,  has,  with 
greatest  difficulty,  indefatigable  patience,  and 
lavish  expenditure  of  money,  succeeded  in 
collecting  a  hundred  of  my  masterpieces— 

"Yours!" 

"  Exactly,"  said  Gray  calmly.  "  That's  how 
you  can  make  partial  reparation.  I've  got  to 
go  on  painting;  I  can't  help  it  as  long  as 
ydu  are  unable  to  reverse  your  mental  treat- 
ment ;  and  as  long  as  I  go  on  painting  you 
ought  to  go  on  buying  my  pictures,  unless 
you  can  create  a  healthy  market  for  me. 
How  else  am  I  to  live,  now  that  you've  ruined 
my  sign  business?  " 


120         Some  Ladies  in   Haste 

Manners,  very  pale,  mopped  the  starting 
pi  rspiration  from  his  forehead. 

"  It's  horrible,"  he  said  under  his  breath. 

*'  The  public  will  think  I'm  cra/y " 

"  Not   after  you   have  bought   a   hundred 
or  two  of  my  pictures,"  said  ( iray  cheerfully. 
"  As  soon  as  the  public  reads  about  it.  I'll  In- 
all  right.      And,    William,    perhaps    y«»u    had 
better   begin   to   acquire    my   works   immedi 
atcls.      I've    nearly   thirty    upstairs— tlu-   ones 
that  the  elnb  \\«mldn't  accept  as  a  gift- 
Manners  convulsively  covered  his  eyes  with 
his   hands. 

"  He  a  man!"  said  Gray  kindly.  "I'mnr 
upstairs  and  let  me  explain  them  to  you.  Bc- 
-iii  by  purchasing  t  \\  < .  <  >r  tin...  l-'.asy  does 
it.  (let  the  habit.  And  by  and  by  you  may 
tin<l  it  rather  interesting  t«»  ac«|uire 
llu\  rr  n««t  so  bad  to  look  at  when  you 
-tomcd  to  them.  It's  pnrelv  a  matter 
of  habit.  /  like  them ;  I  really  do.  Cheer 
up ;  you  may  come  to  care  for  them  some 

Manners  lifted  a  haggard  fa 

"  I — I  suppose  it's  <>nly  fair."  he  said.  I 
didn't  know  I'd  ruined  your  s,-n  business, 
Stephen.  If  I  have  it's  only  decent  for  me  to 


A  Guilty  Man  121 

do  what  I  can.  H-how  many  pictures  did 
you  say  you  had  left  unsold  ?  " 

"  They're  all  unsold,"  replied  Gray.  "  I've 
simply  got  to  sell  some  to  make  a  living.  Of 
course,  if  you  feel  the  way  you  do,  I  hate  to 
have  you  make  a  collection— 

"  I'll  do  it!  I'll  try  my  best  to  make  you 
popular  and  fashionable  if  it's  possible.  I'll 
ask  Kelvin  and  Todd  and  Billy  West  and 
Krlly  Jones  to  buy  'em,  too!  I'll  engage  a 
press  agent  for  you.  I'll  do  anything — only, 
you  won't  mind  if  I — I  dispose  of  my  gallery 
after  you're  famous,  will  you,  Stephen?  It 
would  kill  me  to  live  very  long  with  those 
things;  it  really  wouM." 

So  it  was  arranged  between  them  that  a 
campaign  be  started  immediately  to  alleviate 
the  financial  condition  of  Stephen  Gray;  and 
they  adjourned  to  Gray's  room  to  agree  upon 
the  plan  and  try  to  accustom  Manners  to  the 
sight  of  the  thirty  pictures. 

About  noon  they  lunched  together — that  is, 
Stephen  lunched — but  it  was  empty  form  for 
Manners  to  sit  at  the  table,  as  his  mind  was 
distracted  with  his  dreadful  responsibility  for 
the  classical  antics  of  Miss  Valdes,  and  also 
upset  by  an  inspection  of  Gray's  pictures. 


122          Sonic   Liniics  in   Haste 

"Awful,  isn't  it?"  lu-  repeated  a-ain  and 
again  to  Gray.  "  Nobody  will  ever  care  to 
marry  such  a  girl  as  that!  She'll  never  find 
a  man  who  can  stand  for  that  sort  of  tiling. 
I — I  suppose,  in  decency,  I  ought  to  go  up 
there  to  Lenox  and  dress  up  in  billy-goat 
skins  and  pretend  t<>  be  Pan.  and  offer  to 
marry  her— 

"  You  don't  have  to,"  observed  <  .ray  coldly. 

"But     it's     the     only     reparation      1      can 

make 

"  I'll    do    any    repairing    nece>  ^aid 

Gray  firmly. 

rtainly." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?  You  prob- 
ably won't  be  able  to  -et  near  her  if  she's 
ranging  the  woods — unless  you  dre»  tip  like 
a  faun  or  a  water  nymph " 

Gray  dropped  knife  and  fork.  "  Do  you 
think  so?"  he  a.'  ked,  agitated. 

I'm  afraid  so.  You  see,  when  I  noticed 
that  indolent-eyed,  languid  young  girl  rolling 
past  the  club  window  in  her  victoria.  I  gave 
her  a  vigorous  dose  of  mental  persuasion. 
All  the  fuss  and  feathery  furbelow  and  non- 
sense that  decorated  her  I  suggested  that  she 


A  Guilty  Man  123 

shed  in  favor  of  classical  simplicity.  *  Go  out 
and  range  the  fragrant  woods  and  fields ! '  I 
insisted.  '  Kick  off  those  French  heels,  and 
be  as  unconventional  and  free-limbed  as  Di- 
ana ! '  O  Stephen,  I  didn't  mean  to  be  lit- 
eral !  I  didn't  intend  to  have  her  act  the  way 
she's  acting.  I — my  intentions  were  of  the 
best — the  purest,  the  most  chaste —  Stephen, 
you  know  that  Diana  was  chaste 

Gray  gazed  at  his  omelet.  "  She  got  stuck 
on  Endymion,"  he  observed  gloomily.  "  See 
here,  William,  the  thing  for  us  to  do  is  to 
go  up  there  to  the  Berkshires,  call  upon  Miss 
Valdes,  confess  frankly  the  horrible  wrong 
you  have  done  her 

"What  good  will  it  do?"  demanded  Man- 
ners, aghast.  "  I — I'm  perfectly  willing  to 
endure  her  scorn  and  reproach  and  hatred, 
but  all  that  won't  prevent  her  from  continu- 
ing to  behave  like  a  goddess " 

"  Don't  you  think  so?" 

"  No,  I  don't.  I  don't  know  any  antidote 
for  what  I've  done.  If  I  could  reverse  treat- 
ment I  would,  but  I  can't,  and  there  are  no 
anti-goddess  pills  that  I  ever  heard  of.  Only 
cold  weather  can  make  her  dress  warmly 
again,  I  fear." 


124  M*    l.adics  in   Haste 


"Thru."  xaid  Gray  resolutely.  "  I'll  marry 
her,  an\\\ay.  if  I  can  —  if  she'll  have  me. 
What  do  I  care  whether  she  chooses  to  roam 
free  and  untrammeled  in  a  classical  costume 
of  cheese  cloth  \\lun  the  weather  permits?  It 
will  always  be  inside  private  grounds,  ami. 
besides,  I,  personally,  like  (  i  redan  costume 
and  customs.  Why  not?  —  the\'rc  artiMic. 
and  as  art  is  about  all  I  live  for  now  it  will 
suit  me  perfectly.  So  I'm  goinsj  up  to  Lenox 
to-night.  And  you  must  come,  too." 

I  don't  want  to,"  said  Manners  in  a  voice 
which  approached  a  whimper. 

•h.    v'ti've   got   to   go  to   her   and  ex- 
plain," insisted  Gl  It   can  do  no  harm 

and  it  may.  perhaps,  do  some  good.  So  tell 
the  valet  to  pack  your  suit  case  and  trunk. 
.  .  .  After  all.  I'm  not  so  VIM  \..u  did 

this  to  us.  If  you  hadn't  I  probably  would 
never  have  gathered  enough  courage  to  ask 
Miss  Valdes  to  mam-  a  man  who  had  only 
known  her  by  sight  f-  and  whose  busi- 

ness was  as  low  d<>wn  as  mine  was.  As  it  K 
I  think  I  can  venture  to  ask  her  to  consider 
the  respectful  advances  of  an  artist  -  " 

"  D-don't  let  her  see  your  pictures,"  mut- 
tered Manners. 


A  Guilty  Man  125 


"  I  most  certainly  shall,"  returned  Gray 
very  haughtily.  "  I'll  sail  under  no  false  oil 
colors;  I'll  practice  no  deceptions.  If  she 
takes  me  she  takes  me  with  all  my  faults 
and  pictures.  She  will  know  exactly  what 
she's  getting;  she  won't  plunge  blindly  into 
matrimony.  .  .  .  And,  William,  I  am  won- 
dering wlu-t IKT  my  pictures  are  as  bad  as  they 
are  painted  ?  After  all,  you  don't  know  every- 
thing, do  you?  Suppose,  after  all,  I've  been 
founding  a  new  school  which  nobody  yet  ap- 
preciates or  understands?" 

"  Perhaps,"  groaned  Manners,  collapsing 
in  his  chair. 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE   ABSENT-MINDED   GODDESS 

X  a  hrautit'ul  summer  after- 
noon two  ynuni;  mm  ap- 
proached the  great  door  of  a 
stately  country  mansion  a  few 
miles  from  Lenox.  Both 
young  men  carried  suit  cases.  One  wore  a 
frock  coat,  silk  hat,  an  old-fashioned  string  tie, 
and  a  false  beard. 

To  their  formal  inquiries  the  sepulchral 
servant  at  the  door  replied,  in  a  voice  like 
the  sound  of  a  half-gulped  sob,  that  Miss  Val- 
des  was  not  at  home. 

120 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    127 

"  Might  we  see  the  park  and  the  gardens?  " 
inquired  one  of,  the  young  men.  "  I  would 
like  to  have  Dr.  Manners  become  familiar 
with  the — ah — environments — 

The  butler  said  that  visitors  were  permitted 
until  five. 

A  parlor  maid  conducted  them  to  the  ter- 
race. Her  eyes  were  red  as  though  she  had 
been  weeping.  Another  maid  appeared  and 
piloted  them  through  the  summer  conserva- 
tories. Her  eyes  were  red. 

Then  a  gardener  came  to  take  them 
through  the  graperies;  and  his  eyes  were 
red. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  everybody  ?  "  ven- 
tured Gray  at  last. 

"  Doin's,"  said  the  gardener  briefly. 

The  ganKmr's  wife  received  them  at  her 
cottage  door  and  conducted  them  through  the 
celebrated  vegetable  garden.  She  had  been 
weeping. 

"  I  suppose,"  suggested  Manners,  wagging 
his  big,  false  beard,  "  that  you've  been  cry- 
ing on  account  of  the  doin's,  haven't  you?" 

"  Y-yes,"  sniffed  the  woman ;  "  but  how  do 
you  know?  " 

"  Friends  of  the  family — physicians/'  mut- 


128          Some   I.iiilics  in   I  lust c 

tered  (iray.  "  I  mean  that  I  am  not  exactly. 
!>ut  this  medical  gentleman  is  old  Dr.  Man- 
ners  1 

"Oh,  sir!"  broke  in  the  woman,  clasping 
her  hands,  "perhaps  you  can  tell  me.  then, 
if  they  have  found  my  dear  yoimi;  mistress! 
\\  e  are  all  so  frightened:  Miss  Yaldes  has 
been  gone  three  days  this  time,  and  if  she 
hadn't  told  us  she'd  dismiss  ux  if  we  both- 
ered her  again  we'd  have  went  for  the  tn\sn 
constable  and  the  t'ambly  d»»ct«»r." 

Manners  began  to  shake;  Gray  wagged  his 
head. 

So  she  is  still  in  the  woods?"  he  asked 
gravels. 

Yes.  xjr<  u<  suppose  so — judging  from  the 
state  of  the  pantry  last   ni^ht." 

"  Sad.  1. 1. "  he  obsei  Hut 

old  Dr.  Manners  and  I  are  extinndx    In  .peiul 
— ah — I  may  say  almost  sanguine,  that   V 
\  aides    may    return    this    evening.       I  hat    is 
\\liy   \\e  are  here:  but  you  are  not  to  say 
anything,  do  you  understand'  " 

'    Yes.  sir."" 

"  Are  those  the  woods  Miss  Valdes  usu- 
ally haunts?" 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    129 

"  Those  umbrageous  solitudes  over  there 
on  the  hill — is  that  where  your  mistress  is 
accustomed  to  seclude  herself?" 

"  She  goes  into  them  woods,  doctor — yes, 
sir." 

"  Quite  so.  Thank  you."  And,  turning 
gravely  to  Manners :  "  Now,  doctor,  if  you 
are  ready." 

And  very  solemnly,  arm  in  arm,  the  two 
young  men  set  off  across  the  fields,  carrying 
their  suit  cases.  The  sun  was  hot;  perspira- 
tion bedewed  Manners's  countenance. 

"  This  beard  and  this  accursed  silk  hat  are 
fierce,"  he  said,  "  and  my  black  frock  coat 
weighs  tons.  I  don't  think  it  is  necessary  for 
me  to— 

"  Yes,  it  is.  You  look  the  part.  Besides, 
she'll  be  more  likely  to  listen  to  you  if  you 
look  like  that.  Do  you  remember  what  you 
are  to  say  when  you  meet  her?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Manners  sulkily ;  "  I'm  to  say 
that  I'm  old  Dr.  Manners,  specialist  on  all 
kinds  of  feminine  fidgets,  and  that  if  she 
doesn't  go  back  home  and  stop  behaving 
like  a  goddess,  I'll  commit  her  to  my  sana- 
torium." 

"  Well,    try    to    put    it    more    medically, 


130         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

William.  Whew !  This  shade  is  refresh- 
ing!"— as  they  entered  the  woods.  ''Isn't 
this  stunning?  —  these  fine  old  trees  and 
rocks 

Manners  was  down  on  all  fours  drinking 
out  of  a  brook  that  came  rippling  through  the 
woodland  silence ;  and  as  he  eagerly  lapped 
up  the  icy  water  his  silk  hat  fell  off  and 
danced  roguishK  a\\a\  d«>\\  n>treani.  Gray 
brought  it  back. 

When  we  sight  her,"  he  said,  "  I'll  hide, 
and  you  advance  and  try  to  reason  with  In  r ; 
and  if  there's  nothing  doing  then  I'll  put  on 
these  pink  tights  and  the  billy-goat  coat,  and 
tie  a  ribbon  across  my  forehead,  and  begin 
to  play  on  my  fife,  and  let  her  discover  me  by 
the  brook." 

Y«»u  ought  to  have  had  a  reed  pipe,"  said 
Manners  doubtfully.  But  Gray  seemed  confi- 
dent that  his  fife  was  just  as  classical.  Be- 
sides, he  could  play  "  Rally  Around  the  Flag  " 
on  the  fitV. 

When  Manners  had  drunk  his  fill  and  re- 
moved the  irv  drops  that  twinkled  on  his 
nose  and  on  the  point  of  his  false  beard,  they 
moved  forward,  rapidly  at  first,  then  cau- 
tiously, listening,  alert,  wary  as  men  ought  to 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    131 

be  who  were  liable  at  any  moment  to  encoun- 
ter a  goddess  in  the  next  thicket. 

"Any  signs?"  whispered  Manners,  pick- 
ing up  his  silk  hat  which 'a  young  tree  had 
playfully  snatched  from  his  head  and  deftly 
punctured. 

"  No;  did  you  hear  anything?"  questioned 
Gray  with  trembling  lips,  peering  forward. 

Manners,  after  vainly  attempting  to  smooth 
the  nap  of  his  hat,  crammed  it  firmly  on  his 
head. 

"  She's  probably  camping  along  this  brook 
somewhere,"  he  said.  "  You  find  game  along 
water  courses,  and  probably  it's  the  same  \\ith 
goddesses.  Hark  !  " 

"  Hark !  "  repeated  Gray  in  a  whisper. 

Very  far  away  a  twig  had  snapped  sharply ; 
then  the  woodland  silence  fell  over  all  —  a 
stillness  the  more  profound  for  the  ceaseless 
sound  of  the  shallow  brook  slipping  swiftly 
over  silver  sands. 

"  Hush !  "  breathed  Manners  through  his 
false  beard,  hand  to  ear,  as  though  intent 
on  listening  to  something  off  stage.  Gray 
glanced  at  him  with  artistic  disapproval ;  the 
attitude  was  admirable,  but  the  top  hat 
clashed  with  the  background. 
10 


132         Some  Lit  dies  in  Haste 

It  actually  hurts  me  to  look  at  you/'  he 
said.  "  Come  on;  I  can't  hear  anybody  mak- 
ing a  noise  like  a  goddess." 

They  stole  stealthily  forward,  Indian  file, 
Manners  leading  through  the  fragrant  tangle 
and  holding  on  his  hat  with  one  hand. 

A  rabbit,  bouncing  up  and  hopping  noisily 
away  over  the  dead  leaves,  almost  paralyzed 
them;  the  thundering  whir  of  a  partridge 
halted  them  again  with  a  shock. 

If— if  those  little  creatures  make  all  that 
noise, "  panted  Manners,  "  \\  \\hat  sort  of  an 
uproar  do  you  suppose  a  scared  goddess  \\ill 
make?  She'll  go  off  like  a  regiment  of  cav- 
alry. I  suppose — 

"  S-s-st !  "  cautioned  <  ira\ .  listening  off 
stage  in  his  turn.  A  distant  crashing  sounded 
far  in  the  dim  forest  depths,  nearer.  I«.ud«-r. 
suddenly  lost,  then  startling  in  its  distinctness. 

"  S-s-something's  coming  on  a  jump!  "  fal- 
tered Manners.  "\V-\\hich  uay  had  we  bet- 
ter run,  Stephen  ?  " 

Before  Gray  could  reply,  a  deer  crossed  the 
brook  at  full  speed,  flag  up,  and  continued  on- 
ward, taking  most  prodigious  bounds  into  the 
leafy  thickets  beyond. 

Manners  recovered  his  speech  after  a  sec- 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    133 

ond  or  two.  "  I  just  hate  to  be  startled,"  he 
said  fretfully.  "  Everything  in  nature  seems 
to  delight  in  jarring  you." 

Gray,  who  had  been  watching  a  low  wood- 
ed crest  to  the  right,  suddenly  squatted  be- 
hind a  barrier  of  low  fir  trees. 

"  There  she  is !  "  he  hissed.  "  She'll  cross 
the  brook  above  us,  where  that  deer  crossed ! 
Quick,  Manners!  It's  up  to  you  to  do  what 
you  can ! " 

Manners  gaped  vacantly  at  a  swiftly  speed- 
ing ^limnuT  of  white  emerging  from  the  dis- 
tant foliage  on  the  hill.  Gray  muttered : 
"  Run  upstream,  idiot !  "  and  gave  him  a  vio- 
lent shove ;  and  Manners,  following  the  direc- 
tion in  which  he  had  been  unceremoniously 
projected,  cramnu-d  his  silk  hat  over  his  ears 
and  cantered  on,  suit  case  in  one  hand,  long, 
black  coat  flapping.  And  the  next  moment 
he  saw  the  goddess  in  full  chase. 

She  was  a  tall,  lithe  girl,  clothed  in  the 
white,  heavily  plaited  body  blouse  and  short 
skirt  of  the  classical  Grecian  huntress.  Arms 
and  neck  flashed  like  polished  ivory,  and 
above  her  big,  gray  eyes  a  heavy  mass  of 
bronze  hair  whipped  the  wind. 

Hopping     hopefully     upstream,     Manners 


134         Some   Ladies  in   Haste 


emerged  into  view,  and.  as  she  caught  sight 
of  him,  he  attempted  to  bow  ;  but  that  was  a 
difficult  matter  \\hile  running,  for  his  hat  was 
jammed  on  hard. 

The  girl  halted  in  a  flash,  eyes  widening, 
scarlet  lips  parted;  and  as  Manners  \\mulud 
off  his  hat  with  a  conciliators  flourish,  and 
dropped  hi-  >uit  case,  panting,  she  stood  for 
an  instant  like  a  slender  silver  bin  i 
among  the  shaggy  giants  of  the  pii. 

Then  a  swift  frown  bent  her  delicate, 
^traight  brows  inuard;  and  she  whipped  an 
arrow  from  the  quiver  and  fitted  the  nock  to 
the  string  of  the  bent  bou . 

"Good  Heavens!  "  panted  Manuel  -  ;  "  \  on 
are  not  going  to  slu>< 

"\\hat  arc  \ « .n  doino  m  m\  u.MKls?11  she 
asked  in  a  clear,  menacing  \  Are  you 

a  tramp 

I— I'm  a  doctor— old  Dr.  Manm-i 

MA  c/( 

"Certain!)."  >aid  Manner^,  summoning  all 
his  dignity.  "I  have  eome  lu  n  n-.m  New 
N  «»rk,  profoundly  int<  .1  b\  tin- 
pathological  aspects  of  \,,ur  evident  condi- 
tion  " 

-  \\  ha: 


44  What  are  you  doing  in  my  woods?' 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    135 

"  I  say  I  have  ventured  to  take  a  personal 
and  scientific  interest  in  you." 

A  bright  flush  mounted  to  her  cheeks. 

"  This  is  abominable !  "  she  said,  stamping 
her  sandaled  foot.  "  If  you  please,  you  will 
instantly  leave." 

"  If  you  insist,"  he  said  soothingly,  4M  will 
reluctantly  do  as  you  request.  Hut  first,  Miss 
Valdes,  it  is  absolutely  important  that  I  make 
plain  to  you  in  the  interest  of  science  arid 
of  humanity— 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  asked  impa- 
tiently, moving  a  pace  nearer. 

"  Miss  Valdes,  I  am  a  physician.  The 
mission  of  a  physician  in  this  sad  world  is 
sacred.  Pathos  and  pathology  are  closely 
linked  in  a — 

"Pathos  and  pathology!"  slu>  repeated 
coldly.  "  Do  you  mean  bathos  and  biolo- 
gy ?  "  And,  in  swiftly  mounting  scorn  and 
vexation :  "  I  understand,  I  think.  Some 
meddler  has  sent  for  you  to  interfere  with  me 
because  I  choose  to  amuse  myself  in  my  own 
fashion  on  my  own  estate.  Please  let  me  at 
once  assure  you  that  I  am  not  in  need  of  a 
physician— 

"  You  arc  \  "  said  Manners  firmly. 


136          Some  Ladies  in   ffostc 

She   flushed   crimson.     "  I   beg   your   par- 
don 

"  You  ore.  Miss  Yaldes."  ho  repeated.  "  It 
is  only  right  that  you  should  know  that  your 
present  lamentable  mode  of  life  is  not  caused 
h\  any  fault  of  your  own.  That  is  why  I  1 
come  here  to  warn  you — to  admit — to  confess 
—that— that  it  is  ;;/y  fault." 

She  stared  at  him  without  a  word. 

"  I  did  it,"  he  said  gloomily.  "  throe  months 
ago.     It  is  a  dreadful  and  humiliating  cm 
sion  for  me  to  come  here  and  make.      I   am 
perfectly  overwhelmed  with  horror  at  myself. 
But,   if  there   is   any    remedy   at   all   for   this 
classical   mythological   mania   no\\    . 
\"ti.  it  perhaps  ljt-s  in  my  confession  of  guilt." 

"Three    months   ago."    she   repeated;   "  I 
I  don't  understand ' 

"Throe  months  ago."  he  said  solemnly. 
u  were  a  perfectly  ordinary  girl  —  idle, 
luxurious,  indifferent,  vain.  srlh\hl\  absorbed. 
and  physically  and  mentally  indolent,  with  the 
intellect  of  a  canary,  and  the  ambition  of  a 
Persian  kitten— 

"  W-what ! " 

"  Thon,"    he    continued,    moving    a    little 
nearer  to  where  she  stood,  "  on  an  evil  day 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    137 

I  saw  you,  rolling  along  in  your  victoria 
on  Fifth  Avenue,  all  aflutter  with  lace  and 
furbelows  and  knickknacks  and  beribboned 
whatnots.  What  you  were  was  perfectly  ap- 
parent to  me  in  your  face  and  figure  and  at- 
titude and  dress.  And  I  thought  it  a  pity ; 
and  —  and  I  fixed  my  eyes  on  you  —  and  — 
and- 

"W-what?"  she  faltered. 

"  Changed  you !  "  he  said,  still  cautiously 
approaching  her.  "  I  concentrated  upon  you 
the  powerful,  intellectual  batteries  of  my 
mind !  I  altered  you  by  hurling  after  you 
wave  after  wave  of  mental  suggestion.  I 
willed  that  you  become  vigorous  and  active 
and  athletic !  I — unfortunately  urged  you  to 
an  emulation  of  the  classical  ladies  of  Greek 
mythology.  I  didn't  mean  to  have  you  influ- 
enced so  morally  and  literally,  Miss  Val- 
des— 

"You  did  this  to  tm»!!!" 

"  Alas ! "  he  sighed,  continuing  his  way 
toward  her. 

"  To  me ! !  "  —  gazing  at  him  in  slowly 
flushed  wonder.  "  This  insolence — this  shame 
—Stand  still !  Stand  where  you  are !  " 

Suddenly  the  gray  lightning  flashed  in  her 


138          Some   I. ailics  in   Hustc 

eyes ;  she  whipped  the  arrow  across  the  string. 
drew  it  to  its  head,  and  deliberately  opened 
fire  at  him. 

Leave  these  woods!  "  she  cried.  "  Leave 
instantly!"  And  a  blunt  arrow  rapped  him 
smartly  across  the  ribs  and  rebounded  rat- 
tling on  the  stones  of  the  brook. 

Manners  grasped  hU  Miit  rase  and  with  one 
frantic  bound  cleared  the  brook.  1 '.hinted  ar- 
rows rattled  a  lively  tattoo  all  over  him  as 
he  fled;  Gray,  from  his  hiding  place  in  th 
thicket,  saw  his  friend  pass  at  a  maddened 
gallop,  the  air  around  him  singing  thirk  with 
arro\\  I, 

"Good     Lord!"     he     thought,     appalled; 
"  what  a  very  unusual  sort  of  a  girl  ^lu 

He  had — seeing  how  matters  were  turning 
—-concluded  that  Manner's  mission  would  In- 
useless.     There   remained  only  one   way  to 
make  amends  to  Miss  Valdes.  as  he  under- 
stood it,  and  that  was  to  offer  himself,  hand 
and  heart,  to  this  beautiful  but  eccentric  girl. 
barred  by  her  eccentricity  from  the  fan 
chance  of  matrimony  with  a  normal  man  of 
her  own  caste. 

To  that  end,  and  during  Manners's  com 
sion  of  guilt,  he  had  hurriedly  divested  him- 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    139 

self  of  his  fashionable  apparel,  drawn  on  the 
pink  silk  tights  and  sandals,  and  swathing  his 
figure  in  a  goatskin  rug,  he  secreted  his  suit 
case  in  the  bushes  and  seated  himself  on  the 
moss,  fingering  his  fife  and  watching  the  out- 
come of  Manners's  mission. 

But  the  abrupt  termination  of  the  parley 
and  the  shocking  manner  of  his  friend's  re- 
treat frightened  him.  A  flight  of  arrows 
rebounding  from  his  own  pink  silk  attire  did 
not  seem  very  attractive ;  he  sat  quite  still  on 
the  moss,  fife  inserted  between  his  lips,  hesi- 
tating, and  peeping  nervously  through  the 
foliage  where  his  goddess  stood,  a  rosy- 
cheeked  vision  in  white,  speeding  the  last  ar- 
row in  the  wake  of  the  crashing  but  now 
invisible  Manner- 

When  she  sent  the  last  feathered  messen- 
ger of  vengeance  into  the  golden  gloom  of 
the  trees,  she  stood  for  a  moment  rijjid,  erect, 
a  statuesque  and  charming  miracle,  left  arm 
outstretched  clutching  the  bow,  right  arm 
drawn  back,  her  slender  white  fingers,  from 
which  she  had  just  loosed  the  bowstring, 
brushing  the  little  close-set  ear. 

Then  the  snowy  vision  o£  dead  ages  slowly 
dissolved,  and  out  of  it  emerged  a  very  lovely 


140         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

and  very  modern  young  girl,  graceful,  re- 
laxed, laughing  now,  now  listening,  the  smile 
tremulous  on  lid  and  lip. 

The  distant  racket  of  Manners's  flight  died 
away;  again  the  silence  filled  with  the  low 
murmur  of  the  stream,  and  the  girl  came  for- 
\\anl  and  looked  down  into  the  \\aur.  and 
stood  so,  thoughtfully,  her  head  bent,  the 
curve  of  her  neck  dazzling  under  the  bronze 
crown  of  silky  hair. 

Slim,  distractingly  pretty  in  her  white  tunic, 
which  fell  in  close  folds  below  her  knees,  she 
seemed  absolutely  without  blemish  there  in 
the  warm,  green-gold  glow  of  the  leaves. 

Head,  shoulders,  arms,  the  straight  young 
limbs,  all  were  of  one  exquisite  and  symmet- 
rical cnscmhlc.  pure,  serene,  flawless  as  the 
marble  out  of  which  she  might  well  have 
steppol.  so  Greek,  so  perfect,  so  divine  she 
ied. 

Then  the  spell  broke;  from  the  white  doe- 
skin pouch  at  her  si<U-  she  slowly  drew  some- 
thing flat  and  square,  and  pensively  pressed  it 
to  her  delicate  red  lips.  It  was  a  ham  sand- 
wich. 

Except  for  that  anachronistic  intrusion  of 
modern  realism  —  the  abrupt  transformation 


The  .Ihscnt-Mindcd  Goddess    141 


from  the  celestial  to  the  human — Gray  under- 
stood that  he  would  never  have  dared  hope, 
or  speak  of  hope  to  himself,  much  less  to  his 
divinity. 

But  the  magic  had  faded  into  a  more  won- 
derful and  delightful  actuality  ;  with  a  thrill 
he  beheld  his  pagan  g«»ddess  rating  a  sand- 
wich— a  wholesome,  health-giving  sandwich 
constructed  of  home-made  bread  and  the  rose- 
tinted  residue  of  the  domestic  pig.  From 
Olympia  she  had  come  fluttering  down  to  the 
world,  alighting  daintily  upon  the  same  earth 
that  he  inhabited.  And,  if  it  pleased  her 
divinity  to  set  her  small,  white  teeth  in  a  ham 
sandwich,  perhaps  —  perhaps,  she  might  not 
drive  a  living  specimen  of  the  human  kind 
from  her  with  accurate  arrows ! 

l;ir>t,"  lie  said  to  himself,  "  I'll  naively 
di -rover  my  whereabouts  through  the  music 
of  my  fife.  Then  I'll  admit  that  I'm  a  fellow- 
victim  of  mythological  obsession.  And  then 
—then  we'll  see— 

And,  grasping  his  fife  with  determination, 
and  watching  her  askance  through  the  leaves, 
he  produced  a  loud,  shrill  toot. 

The  effect  upon  the  goddess  was  electrical. 
For  a  second  she  sat  absolutely  motionless, 


142          Some  Ladies  in   Haste 

stiffened  to  a  statue,  the  half-bitten  sanduuh 
suspended  in  mid-air;  then,  as  he  blew  hope- 
fully into  his  fife,  she  sprang  erect,  incredu- 
lous, astounded. 

Gurgling  tootles  continued  to  proceed  from 
the  fir  thicket.  Like  a  wild  doe  at  gaze,  >he 
stared  at  the  spot,  string  nothing.  And  all 
the  while  Gray,  laboring  faithfully,  elicit <•<! 
from  the  fife  his  version  of  "  Rally  Around  the 
Flag,  Boys,"  and  kept  a  furtive  eye  on  her. 
determined  to  seize  his  secreted  suit  case  and 
fly  if  his  goddess  approached  him  with  ar- 
rows instead  of  curiosity  and  <|u<-ti«>nv 

She  was  approaching  now,  on  tiptoe,  no 
lessly,  gracefully  as  a  curious  <lr\a«l,  one  fin- 
ger classically  raised  and  pressed  flat  across 
her  lips. 

lu-t  like  a  Greuze  picture."  thought 
Gray,  captivated;  hut  he  continued  to  toot, 
and  his  goddess  continued  to  advance  over 
the  moss  with  noiseless  steps,  bow  in  hainl 

At  length  Gray  realized  with  a  dcli< 
thrill  that  she  stood  close  behind  him  look- 
ing down  at  him  over  the  low  evergn  < -n 
hedge ;  and  his  fingers  danced  madly  over 
the  stops,  and  he  puffed  out  his  cheeks  and 
blew  his  whole  love-smitten  soul  into  the  fife, 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    143 

not  knowing  whether  he  was  going  to  receive 
a  blunt  arrow  in  the  neck,  or  a  civil  greeting. 

"  In  about  a  minute,"  he  thought  to  him- 
self, "  I'll  turn  carelessly  around  and  become 
transfixed  with  wonder  at  seeing  her  there." 

And  in  about  a  minute  he  did — and  so  nat- 
urally that  the  wonder  and  delight  in  his  at- 
tractive face  were  too  real  to  doubt,  and  really 
were  absolutely  genuine,  so  wholly  beautiful 
was  the  engaging  and  youthful  face  gazing 
down  at  him  over  the  hemlocks. 

"  What  in  the  world  are  you  doing  in  my 
woods  ?  "  she  asked  softly,  the  pretty  aston- 
ishment in  her  face  deepening. 

He  stood  up,  fife  in  hand,  the  goatskin 
falling  classically  over  him  from  his  shoul- 
ders. 

"  The  stupidity  of  civilization  bores  me," 
he  said,  smiling.  "  I  heard  that  you  were 
sensible  enough  to  revert  to  the  old  simplic- 
ity of  the  Golden  Age,  and  you  gave  me  the 
courage  to  be  myself.  So  I  came  into  these 
woods  to  listen  to  the  stream  and  play  on 
my  fife — meaning  no  harm.  Do  you  mind  ?  " 

"  N-no,  I  don't  mind.    Who  are  you?" 

"  I  am  an  artist,  Stephen  Gray." 

"An  artist!" 


144          Some   Luilics  in 


"  Yes." 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  nodding  IUT  head,  "  I  can 
understand  artists  doing  anything.  And  I 
don't  think  I  mind  your  coming  into  my 
woods.  .  .  .  You  —  you  .are  dressed  like  a 
faun.  Why 

"  I  feel  like  one  —  sometimes."  lu  >aid.  un- 
consciously touching  the  tips  of  his  ears  as 
though  to  find  out  \vhether  they  had  i;n>\\n 
pointed  and  hairy. 

"  Do  you  ?  Do  you  really  feel  pagan  at 
moment 

"Very,    Do  yoi 

"Every  now  and  then  I  do  —  periodically," 
she  admitted   frankly.     "And.   ulu-n    I    <l>.    I 
come  out   into  my  own   fresh,   x  \\ret    \\oods, 
and  —  and   I    behave  like  the  mischief,    I    >np 
pose  —  according  to  omvi  nti.mal  ideas. 
Do  you  know  my  n,n 

"  I  Hana."  lie  said  very  gently,  and  \\ith  a 
faint  accent  of  caress.  For  the  gray  eyes  into 
which  he  looked  were  bewitching  him.  and 
her  voice  was  stealing  his  senses  fr,  ,m  him. 
and  the  delicate  lips,  resting  so  sensitively 
upon  one  another,  were  most  eloquent  \\hen 
dumb,  calling  him,  calling  to  him  in  the  old- 
est language  in  the  world. 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    145 

He,  too,  seemed  to  fascinate  her  with  an  in- 
nocent curiosity.  She  stepped  through  the 
aromatic  evergreen  barrier  that  separated 
them  and  confronted  him  with  clear,  direct 
gray  eyes. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  said,  "  where  did  you  hear 
about  me  ?  " 

"  In  Lenox." 

"Do  you  live  there?" 

"  Near  there." 

"You  have  a  studio?" 

"  Yes— a  sort  of  one." 

"And — and  did  you  ever  before  see  me?" 

"  Yes — often — ever  since  you  were  a  child." 

She  was  silent,  gazing  searchingly  into  his 
eyes.  Then  she  laughed : 

"  I  think  I  like  you.    Shall  I  sit  down?" 

She  seated  herself  with  the  unconscious 
grace  of  a  child ;  he  stood  a  moment ;  then 
she  looked  up  confidently,  and  he  dropped  be- 
side her  on  the  thick,  green  moss. 

"  Isn't  it  delicious  to  escape  from  the  com- 
monplace ?  "  she  asked  frankly.  "  To  escape 
from  noise,  and  ugliness,  and  the  vulgarity  of 
ostentation  into  this?  It  is  strange  that  the 
remedy  never  occurred  to  me  until  this 
spring.  I  was  indolent,  languid,  mentally  dis- 


146         Sonic   /.(/<//r\  /;/   Iltistc 

satisfied,  and  all  I  knew  was  that  1  was  bored 
with  the  world  in  which  I  had  not  figured  very 

long- 
Then  suddenly  it  occurred  to  me  that  I 
had  a  right  to  escape.  It  was  as  though  a 
voice  had  abruptly  awakened  me  from  the 
dull  inertia  of  mere  existence.  A  strong, 
\\holi-soim-.  overwhelming  desire  for  freedom 
seized  me — the  desire  for  untrammeled  free- 
dom of  soul  and  body  —  the  longing  for 
the  freedom  that  wild  things  have,  to  range 
the  open  unhindered;  the  determination  t<» 
learn  the  meaning  of  libeit\  «»f  mind  in  some 
soft  sylvan  fastness  which  the  world  had  over- 
looked in  its  half-cra/ed  crusade  of  destnu 
ti"ii!  .  .  .  Does  all  this  interest  you?" 

"  Yes." 

She  looked  up  at  him,  smiled,  and,  balan- 
cing the  gilded  bow  across  her  knees,  went 
on  thoughtfully  : 

44  The  world,  whose  life  mission  seems  to 
consist  in  meddling  with  other  people's  pri- 
vacy, held  up  its  centipede  arms  in  horror. 
Gossip  started  like  fire  in  dry  grass;  report- 
ers came  poking  impudent  noses  into  my 
house  and  gardens;  friends  arrived  in  pro- 
cession to  remonstrate;  busybodies  even  in- 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    147 

duced  my  servants  to  follow  me.  But  I 
stopped  that.  And  now,  what  do  you  suppose 
happened  ?  " 

"What?"  asked  Gray,  wincing. 

"  Why,  a  perfectly  horrid  old  doctor  came 
after  me  into  these  woods  and  pretended  he 
had  made  me  do  all  this  sort  of  thing!  As 
though  it  were  not  of  my  own  mind  and  of 
my  own  free  will!  And  so  I  became  vexed, 
and  I  was  rude  enough  to  shoot  some  of  my 
arrows  at  him— 

She  broke  into  a  bewitching  ripple  of 
laughter.  "  Oh,"  she  said,  "  if  you  had  only 
seen  him  run!  I — I  know  it  was  horridly 
rude  of  me — unpardonable — but  I  was  so — 
so  indignant." 

He  was  laughing,  too ;  he  tried  not  to,  out 
of  some  instinct  of  loyalty  to  the  unfortunate 
Manners,  but  the  vision  of  Manners  in  head- 
long flight  came  suddenly  before  his  eyes, 
and  he  leaned  back  against  a  beech  tree  and 
laughed  and  laughed  till  the  woods  rang  with 
their  gay  duet. 

"  Oh,"  she  said  breathlessly,  "  you  are  per- 
fectly delightful !  You  seem  to  understand- 
to  be  part  of  this  free,  unhampered,  pagan  life 
I  am  leading.  I  am  so  glad  you  came  into 
11 


148         Some   /.c/(//V\  /;/   Haste 

it.  Don't  mind  what  I  said  about  these 
woods  being  mine;  they  are  as  free  to  \<m 
as  to  me.  Indeed,  I  love  to  see  you  in  that 
shaggy  goatskin  cloak  and  sandals,  stretched 
out  on  the  moss  like  a  laughing,  mocking 
faun.  It  was  the  one  touch  needed." 

He  laughed,  then  a  shadow  of  perplex  it  \ 
gathered  on  his  brow. 

"  One  thing,"  he  said  :  "  I— I  think  it's  jolly 
good  fun  to  live  this  way  from  time  to  time 
— far  more  fun  than  motoring  or  golfing  or 
driving  or  polo — but — but  I  don't  exactly  sec 
how  you  keep  it  up." 

"  Keep  what  up  ?  "  she  asked,  puzzled. 

l<  The — ah — the  whole  business.  H-how  do 
you  find  anything  to  eat  out  here  ?  M 

She  Unshed  "  I'll  have  to  confess,"  she 
said,  "that  I've  orderol  my  servants  to  leave 
the  pantry  \\in<!<»u  unlocked.  And,  in  the 
moonlight,  I  go  stealing  down  through  the 
meadow  when  everybody  is  abed,  and  I  climb 
into  the  pantry  window  and  take  everything 
I  \\ant."  And.  as  he  looked  at  her  in  blank 
amazement :  "  It's  such  fun."  she  pleaded. 
"  I — I  know  it  isn't  very  classical — a  goddess 
climbing  into  a  pantry  window — but  I  tried 
so  hard  to  live  on  berries  and  nuts  and  things, 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    149 

and  the  berries  were  unsatisfactory  when  they 
were  not  green,  and  the  nuts  were  last  year's 
and  moldy ' 

"  Your  bow  and  arrow,"  he  hinted  severely. 

"  Why — why,  you  didn't  think  I  could  ever 
have  the  cruelty  to  kill  anything,  did  you  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Don't  you  chase  the  deer?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  run  after  the  big,  fat  things, 
and  shoot  my  blunt  arrows  at  them,  but  I 
never  hit  them,  and  it  wouldn't  hurt  them  if 
I  did." 

He  raised  himself  from  the  moss  and  sat 
erect,  crosslegged,  and  she  did  the  same,  con- 
fronting him. 

44  How  often  do  you  do  this  sort  of  thing?  " 
he  asked. 

"What  sort  of  thing?" 

"  Behave  like  a  goddess !  " 

"  About  twice  or  three  times  a  month,"  she 
said  frankly. 

"And  the  remainder  of  the  time?" 

"  Oh,  I  go  about — teas,  lawn  parties,  driv- 
ing— the  usual,  my  shepherd  friend.  And  I 
don't  mind  it  now;  in  fact,  I  rather  like  it  for 
a  change.  But  it  is  always  delicious  to  get 
back  into  my  white  hunting  dress,  and  throw 


150         Sonic  I.  culics  in  Haste 

m\>elf.    wide   armed,   into   the   heart   of  the 
Is.  .  .  .  Tell    me    about    your    pictures! 
May  I  see  them  some  da\  : 

"  They   are   not    very   good   pictures,"   he 


Her  red  mouth  -ivu  M-iiMtive  and  pitiful. 
"Don't  people  care  for  \«>ur  work?" 

"No,  1  think  not" 

11  Well,  /  do!"  -he  exclaimed     "  I  kn,.u 
I'll   like  your  pictures.      1   am  perfectly  sure 
1    \\ill.     And    I'll   tell  everybody  —  c 
that  they  are  i^ood  !     And  then  they'll  begin 

tO    Sell 

"They're  beginning  to  sell  now."  he  said, 
\\incing.     "  A  friend   of  mine  bought    thirty 
the  other  da\.  and  -..me  other  friends  of  mine 
heard  of  it  and   they   have  ordered  sevi 
and  that  means  a  scramble  by  the  pubh 
an\  thing    I    do.      I  —  it    i>n't    fear   of   po\ 
that  worries  me  any  longer  ;  it's  —  it's  -  ' 

"  What  '  "  she  asked,  raising  her  gray  eyes. 

"  Fear  of  —  \on  ! 

"  Of  tin  •!  "  And  her  eyes  were  very  sweet 
and  friendly,  and  very  wide  with  surprise. 

'  Listen."  he  said.  "  Is  it  true  that  here, 
in  this  woodland,  you  have  found  freedom  of 
thought  as  well  as  of  body  ?  " 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    151 

"  Yes,  indeed." 

"  Do  you  think  I  also  might  dare  to  rise 
above  the  petty  artificiality  of  convention  and 
feel  my  heart  and  soul  enfranchised,  here 
under  the  green  trees  of  your  forest  ?  " 

"  Y-yes.  Why  not  ?  You  have  been  wise 
enough  to  come.  Why  should  you  feel  fet- 
tered in  thought,  here  beside  me  in  the 
forest?" 

"  Because  I  came  here — here — "  He  fal- 
tered; she  looked  at  him  steadily. 

"  I  am  listening,"  she  said.  "  Are  you 
afraid  to  speak  freely  to  me  ?  " 

"  Yes.  But  I  am  going  to.  It  is  this :  I 
— I  came  here  because  you  were  here — be- 
cause, for  years,  since  you  were  a  child,  I 
have  seen  you  every  summer  here.  And  from 
the  first  I  never,  never  forgot  you." 

She  spoke  coolly,  but  with  heightened 
color :  "  I  knew  you  by  sight.  I  knew  also 
that  you  had  heard  I  was  here.  You  told  me. 
But  you  didn't  come  to  see  me ;  you  came, 
moved  by  the  same  desire  for  that  simple, 
pagan  happiness  that  inspired  me  to  come. 
.  .  .  Didn't  you?" 

"  No." 

"  Y-you  didn't  come  out  of — of  mere  curi- 


152         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

osity!"    she    stammered,    the    painful    o 
Maining  her  face  and  neck.     "  You  didn't  <!<> 
that— did  you? 

"  \o." 

"\V-well,  then  — well,  then—"  But  lu  r 
voice  refused  to  obey  her,  and  she  sat  there 
with  beautiful  eyes  dilated,  staring  at  him 
fascinated. 

"  Before  I  tell  you  once  more  and  unini^ 
takably  why  I  cairn-."  lu-  >aid  ^ravrlx.  "  I 
must  be  absolutely  honest  with  you  coiumi 
ing  niysdf." 

"  Have  you  not  been?" 

I'artK.  But  I  cannot  endure  that  even 
tlu  faintest  shadow  of  evasion  or  deceit  fall 

iH'tUCitl    Uv" 

"  No,  it  nni-t  n<>t."  -lir  said  calmly.  "  '\\-\\ 
me  what  there  is  to  trll." 

"This:    that    three   months  ago   I    was  a 
commonplace,    rather    clever    business    man 
My  business  was  about  the  most  degraded  of 
any  you  ever  heard  of " 

"1  won't  believe  it!"  she  said,  paling  a 
trifle. 

You  must.  I — I — my  business  consisted 
in  defacing  city,  suburb,  and  country  with 
signs * 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    153 

"Oh!"  she  breathed,  "don't  — don't  tell 
me—  She  stretched  out  both  white  arms  as 
though  to  thrust  away  the  dreadful  knowl- 
edge; but  he  set  his  jaw  and  went  on 
grimly : 

"  That  was  what  I  did ;  that  is  what  I  was. 
I  abhor  it;  I  look  back  on  that  life  with  a 
shudder.  But,  if  I  am  to  tell  you  what  I 
have  come  into  these  woods  to  tell  you,  I 
must  go  on.  ...  Shall  I  go  on  ?  " 

The  distress  in  her  eyes  almost  unnerved 
him  for  the  confession  he  must  make ;  he 
could  scarcely  endure  to  paint  himself  in  such 
somber  and  hideous  colors  for  her  to  see  him 
as  he  was. 

"  Shall  I  go  on  ?  "  he  asked  with  an  effort. 
"  I  came  here  to  tell  you  something — but  I 
must  first  make  clean  confession  if  I  am 
to  say  anything  else.  Shall  I  go  on  ... 
Diana?" 

"  Y-yes,"  she  breathed  in  a  scarcely  audi- 
ble voice. 

"  Then  listen.  A  man  I  knew,  a  friend, 
endowed  with  strange  and  capable  powers  of 
mental  suggestion,  seeing  the  sort  of  thing  I 
was,  took  it  upon  himself  to  treat  me  for  all 
those  qualities  I  lacked." 


154         Some  l.udics  in  Haste 

Yes,"  she  whispered,      yes.     Oh,  go  on! 
Please  go  on  ! 

"  That  is  all,"  he  said  slowly.  "  He  did 
treat  me,  although  I  was  not  aware  of  it  at 
the  time.  I  began  to  loathe  my  business :  I 
began  to  live  only  for  art.  My  business  unit 
to  smash;  I  couldn't  sell  my  pictures.  Now 
I  sec  that  I  am  to  sell  tlu-in  ;  I  see  ahead  "f 
me  success,  affluence,  happiness." 

'    ¥«»"   she  whispered.   "  I    see   it,  too." 

It  is  for  you  to  prophesy."  he  said,  look- 
ing at  her ;  "  for  you  alone  can  decide." 
I        Decide- 

"  Whether  happiness  is  to  be  added  to  suc- 
cess and  aftluen 

"  H0W-    hou    could    I   d.  She  looked 

suddenly    straight    into  his  eyes,   thru    |pfl 
to  her  feet  and  walked  to  the  brook's  e 
And  after  a  long  while  she  seated  herself  on 
a    moss-grown    bowlder,    her    elbow    on    IHT 
knee,  soft,  round   chin   cupped  in  her  palm, 
staring  absently  across  the  stream. 

He  stood  erect,  watching  his  absent-minded 
goddess,  his  heart  beating  like  a  hammer.  A 
wild  idea  that  recourse  to  his  fife  might  help 
matters  was  dismissed  as  hopeless,  because  all 
he  could  play  was  "  Rally  Around  the  I 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    155 

and  a  mellifluously  minor  love  song  was  what 
this  crisis  required. 

"  Diana !  " 

"  Yes  ?  "  she  responded  absently. 

"  May — do  you  mind  if  I  come  over  where 
you  are  ?  " 

"  N-no." 

He  walked  across  the  moss  and  pebbled 
shore,  and  stood  beside  her,  looking  down  at 
her. 

"Diana?" 

She  raised  her  eyes  without  apparent  in- 
terest. 

"  Do  you  despise  me  for  what  I  once 
was  ? "  he  asked,  his  voice  not  under  good 
control. 

"  No,"  she  said  indifferently. 

"  Then — then — as  long  as  I  have  con- 
fessed, may  I  go  on  ?  " 

"  Was  there  more  to  say  ? "  she  asked 
coldly. 

"  Yes." 

"To  me?" 

"  Yes." 

"Why  to  me?" 

"  Because  I—  Her  sudden  pallor  checked 
him.  She  rose  abruptly,  stared  around  her 


156         Some   l.udics  in  Haste 

like  a  pnson  suddenly  and  unpleasantly 
awakened,  then,  without  looking  at  him,  she 
walked  swiftly  away  into  the  forest,  head  low- 
ered, the  gilded  bow  swinging  from  one  small 
hand. 

And  Gray  hurried  back  to  where  he  had 
hidden  his  valise,  seized  it,  and  started  after 
lu-r.  But  to  his  despair  she  had  disappeared 
amid  the  trees — gone,  vanished  utterly;  and, 
valise  in  hand,  he  began  running  distractedly 
about,  and  finally  called  to  her  in  a  low  voice, 
thru  louder  and  persistently,  his  voice  un 
steady  with  the  terror  of  losing  her. 

To  and  fro  among  the  trees  he  hurried,  up 
hillocks,  down  into  moist,  fragrant  glades 
full  of  the  late  red  sunshine  of  departing  day, 
ha-tciiiug  blindly  forward,  \et.  like  those  lost 
iu  forests,  unconsciously  drawn  into  the  in- 
evitable circle. 

The  sun  had  gone  out  in  the  woods;  here 
and  there  a  high-crested  pine  glowed  ruddy 
against  the  >ky  ;  but  soon  the  la^t  rays  faded 
from  the  top  branches  of  the  tallest  forest 
giant,  and  the  purple  transparent  evening 
li^ht  fell  over  the  world  like  a  spell. 

He  had  been  lost  for  some  time,  and  he 
knew  it.  And  at  last,  just  on  the  edge  of 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    157 

evening,  he  came  out  in  a  tiny  clearing  where 
the  brook  ran  through ;  and  he  saw  her  lean- 
ing there  against  a  silver  beech  tree,  looking 
silently  at  him. 

He  halted,  scarcely  believing  his  eyes;  she 
neither  spoke  nor  stirred,  and  after  a  moment 
he  started  toward  her,  calling  her  by  name. 
But  she  made  no  reply. 

He  came  up  and  stood  before  her;  she 
<li<l  not  move,  nor  did  she  answer  when  he 
spoke  again;  only  her  beautiful  gray  eyes 
watched  him  under  the  dark-fringed  lids; 
only  the  rose  color  came  tinting  her  face, 
faint  as  the  afterglow  above  them  in  the 
sky. 

"  I  had  only  one  more  thing  to  say,"  he 
stammered,  "  when  you  left  me — so  suddenly. 
I've  looked  for  you  such  a  long  time — every- 
where— 

"  I  saw  you,"  she  said. 

"  You  saw  me — all  the  while  ?  You  heard 
me  call  you  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Why  should  I  answer  your  call  ? 
Why  should  I  follow  you  ?  " 

"  Not — not  if  you  do  not  desire  to,"  he 
said  slowly. 

"  One  may  answer  without  speaking,"  she 


158         Some   l.udics  in   Haste 

said  unsteadily.     "  I    am  IKTI-.      I>  that   n-not 
my  ansu 

And  as  he  stood  silent  : 

"Do   you    suppose   you    could    ever    lia\< 
found  me  if  I   had  not — not   permitted 

lie  bent  forward,  striving  to  read  her  face 
in  the  dusk  ;  her  eyelids  trembled  slightly. 

"  Diana !  ' 

"Yes,"  she  whispered;  and,  as  he  faltered, 
tongue-tied  and  abashed: 

'Time  is  rushing  like  the  wind  through 
legends,"  she  murmured.  "Can  you  >t«»p  it 
—can  you  do  anything  for — for  us?  This  is 
all  wrong — all  wrong — like  the  loves  of  the 
old-time  gods — MM-cpni-  \<»n  and  me  to- 
gether. .  .  .  Let  me  cling  to  my  tree  \\hile  it 
lasts — while  the  whirl  of  the  vision  lasts — 

*'  Diana — my  darling  !  " 

"I    could    have    escaped,'*    she    \\ln-p 
"hut— but    I    Uloued- 

"  Diana1 

"  A  goddess  seldom  follows  a  man.  But — 
b-but  when  she  does " 

He  bent  swiftly  and  caught  her  hands  in 
his ;  but  she  freed  them  and  clung  desperately 
to  her  tree. 

"  But   when   she   docs"   she   breathed   un- 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    159 

steadily,  "  it  is  because  she — she  can't — help 
—it." 

"  Diana,  Diana !  "  he  whispered ;  "  I  have 
loved  you  so  many  years — so  many  years 

"  And  I  you — years  and  years  in  a  single 
hour  —  pagan  —  shameless  pagan  that  I  am ! 
Oh,  you  don't  know — you  don't  know — but 
I  know  I  was  made  for  this — fashioned  for 
this  swift  wooing — this  woodland  embrace — 
here — breathless  in  your  arras — my  own  sym- 
bol, the  moon,  above  us.  .  .  .  This  moment 
cannot  last — this  twilight  madness — in  your 
arms.  Dearest,  release  me!  Have  I  not  told 
you  I  loved  you?  Have  I  not — oh-h! — not 
my  lips — not  yet !  " 

But  he  had  his  way,  until  at  last  it  became 
her  way  also;  and  the  moon  watched  them, 
silvering  their  bodies  with  her  living  celestial 
beauty. 

"  In  a  week,"  he  insisted. 

"  A — a  month,"  she  pleaded  tremulously. 
"  I  am  dazed." 

Arm  encircling  her  slim  waist,  he  halted  on 
the  hill's  grassy  crest. 

"  No,  not  even  a  week,"  he  said.  "  To- 
morrow !  Will  you  ?  " 


160         Sonic  I.uJics  in  Haste 

-  Dear!*1 

••To-morrow.     Will. you?" 

Y-yes,"  she  sighed  adorably.  "  I  wish  it, 
too.  Oh,  why — why  must  you  go?" 

44  I — I'm  not  accustomed  to  this — ah— cos- 
tume "  —  looking  down  at  his  pink  tights. 
"  Fact  is,  my  darling,  that  I'm  a  tntU 
cold " 

44  Oh,"  she  cried,  in  alarm,  "  put  on  your 
hat  at  once! 

It's  a  horribly  inartistic  combination — 
derby  hat  with  what  I'm  wearing,"  he  pro- 
tested. 

44  Put  it  on !  "  she  insisted ;  and  he  did.  She 
must  have  been  very  deeply  in  love  to  have 
endured  the  ensemble. 

For    a    while    they    lingered    there    in    the 
moonlight,  looking  off  over  the  valley.     1  In- 
house   stood   down   there   among   the   ti 
they  omld  see  one  dimly  lighted  window. 

14  The  pantry,"  she  said  softly.  "  Shall  we 
(limb  in?  " 

Do  you  think " 

"Certainly!"  she  cried,  enchanted.  "It 
will  be  the  most  delicious  supper  in  the 
world !  Take  hold  of  my  hand,  quick !  Are 
\«'ii  iva»l\  '  " 


The  Absent-Minded  Goddess    161 

"  Ready,"  he  said. 

And  away  they  raced  together  down  the 
hill,  he  in  his  pink  silk  tights,  clutching  his 
suitcase,  the  derby  hat  crammed  firmly  over 
his  ears. 

And  in  this  fashion  was  the  flight  of 
Stephen  Gray  and  his  absent-minded  goddess 
into  the  divine  splendors  of  Olympus. 


CHAPTER   VII 

A    LADY    IN    HASTE 

|O  you  mean  to  say  that 
\"u  actually  effectr.l  this 
radical  transformation  in 
me  through  mental  persua- 

a-krtl      Krlly      Jones, 
with    misleading   mildness. 

He  was  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  in 
Manners's  room  at  the  Lenox  Club,  hi-  -tia\\ 
hat  on  the  hack  of  his  head,  his  walking 
Mirk  balanced  vertically  between  flattened 
palms.  From  time  to  time  he  spun  it  on  its 
U-rrule. 

162 


A  Lady  in  Haste  163 

Manners  screwed  his  monocle  into  his  left 
eye  and  smiled  benignly  upon  Jones.  The 
monocle  fell  out ;  he  replaced  it  and  waved 
his  hand  as  though  modestly  disclaiming 
credit  for  the  regeneration  of  Jones. 

"  Dear  friend,"  he  said  in  a  deprecating 
voice,  "  while  perhaps  a  vainer  man  than  I 
might  claim,  with  reason,  some  little  credit 
for  this  happy  and  —  ah  —  unexpected  moral 
development  in  your  character " 

"  So  you  did  do  it,"  mused  Jones  very 
calmly.  "  Gray  and  Kelvin  and  Todd  noticed 
how  I  was  acting  at  a  house  party  the  other 
day ;  and  they  all  seemed  to  think  it  was  their 
duty  to  inform  me  that  you  are  responsible 
for  the  sort  of  citizen  I've  turned  into  during 
the  last  three  months." 

"  It's  very  kind  of  them,"  replied  Manners, 
with  a  modest  cough.  "  I — ah — was  fortu- 
nate enough  to  be  of  some  slight  service 
to  these  gentlemen  —  using  on  them  the 
science  of  mental  persuasion  which  I  have 
also  employed  with  such  happy  effect  upon 
you " 

"  Oh !      So    you    did   deliberately    employ 
mental  influence  on  me?    They  said  you  did. 
I  couldn't  believe  it  " 
12 


164         Sonie  Ladies  in  Haste 

Manners  beamed  with  pride  and  affection 
on  the  cool  but  now  slightly  trembling  Jones. 
1  did,  dear  friend;  yet  I  shrink  from 
claiming  the  entire  credit,  because,  at  hiM.  1 
had  no  real  belief  in  my  power  and  al>ilit\  t«> 
influence  and  alter  other  people's  characters 
and  natures  for  the  better.  It  was  merely 
out  of  curiosity — just  to  see  whether  anything 
could  possibly  be  done  to  make  you  less  ob- 
jectionable than  \<>u  were  —  that  I  concen- 
trated my  mind  »»n  \\hat  at  that  time  served 
you  for  an  intellect.  And  I  gave  you  the 
most  powerful  mental  treatment  I  was  capa- 
ble of  giving.  And  then,  slowly,  gradual! >. 
but  perceptibly— 

What  happened?  "  asked  Jones,  in  a  voice 
audibly  unste. 

"  Why,  you  began  to  behave  so  strangely 
— so— so  decently  — 

41  Oh,  I  did,  did  I  ?  " — his  voice  ending  in  a 
partly  developed  snarl.  "  Well,  what  sort  « »t 
a  creature  do  you  think  you've  turned  m< 
into— you  infernal  and  outrageous  meddler? 
What,  in  the  name  of  ten  thousand  idiots,  did 
you  want  to  interfere  for?  And  I  don't  know 
now  whether  to  let  you  live  any  longer  or 
not,  or  whether  to  give  you  a  chance  of  un- 


A  Lady  in  Haste  165 

doing  what  you've  done  to  me.  Personally, 
I  prefer  to  destroy  you !  " 

Stiffened  to  a  human  gargoyle  in  his 
amazement  and  grief,  Manners  gazed  at  his 
victim  with  protruding  eyes. 

"  D-don't  you  l-like  what  I've  t-turned  you 
into  ?  "  he  gasped  at  last. 

Jones  merely  barked  at  him. 

"  B-b-but  you  were  such  an  offensive  little 
snob !  "  stammered  Manners.  "  Why,  Jones, 
don't  you  remember  what  an  arrogant,  in- 
flated ass  you  were?  A  narrow-minded  nin- 
compoop !  —  a  conceited  worshiper  of  caste 
and  fashion,  toddling  about  town  from  func- 
tion to  function,  lisping  small  talk,  making 
love  to  millions,  and  leading  inane  cotillons? 
Can  you  blame  me  for  trying  to  inject  into 
you  a  vigorous  dose  of  manly  democracy — an 
unslaked  passion  for  social  equality  and  hu- 
man brotherhood?" 

"  I  may  have  been  everything  you  say," 
retorted  Jones,  turning  livid  to  the  ears,  "  but 
it  was  none  of  your  business,  William.  Do 
you  know  what  you've  turned  me  into?  Do 
you  realize  what  I'm  doing  now?  I'm  drift- 
ing headlong  upon  the  rocks  of  moral  and 
social  disaster!  I'm  driving  toward  social  ex- 


166          Sonic   I.mlics  in  Haste 

tremes  which  appall  even  my  own  servants! 
I'm  misbehaving  most  horridly,  William!  1 
was  put  out  of  Tuxedo." 

"  \\-uln  ?"  faltered  Manners. 

"  1  <»r  watting  kisses  at  my  hostess's  French 
maid!  "  snapped  Jones.  "  And  no  sooner  did 
I  find  myself  in  town  again  than  I  sci/cd  the 
opportunity  to  issue  invitations  for  a  big  din- 
ner to  introduce  our  second  parlor  maid  to 
society.  Nobody  came,  ami  I  understand 
everybody  in  town,  including  the  parlor  maid. 
thinks  Fm  ^"in-  era/y.  That's  what  you've 
done  for  me  with  your  social  equality  and 
universal  brotherhood  '  " 

Manners  sat  stunned,  staring  at  Jones,  who 
glared  back,  nervously  clinching  and  un- 
clinching  his  hand. 

"Then."  continued  Jones,  "although  I 
seemed  to  realize  it  \\as  not  usual,  I  invited 
our  colored  furnaceman,  the  local  policeman, 
and  some  very  honest  and  efficient  members 
of  the  municipal  stnrt-cleaning  service  to 
meet  our  butler  and  the  housemaids  socially 
at  a  pink  tea.  Fortunatel\ .  my  parents  are 
at  T.ar  Harbor — for  it  was  a  dreadful  scene, 
William  —  they  drew  the  color  line  at  the 
furnaceman,  vioh-nth.  and  many  things  were 


A  Lady  in  Haste  167 

broken  in  the  drawing-rooms.  And  now  what 
I  am  afraid  of  is  that,  in  a  moment  of  so- 
cialistic enthusiasm,  I  might  inadvertently 
lead  our  estimable  and  cleanly  cook  to  the 
altar,  unless  you  do  something  at  once  to 
check  my  mania  for  social  equality." 

"  Your  cook  I  "  shouted  Manners,  leaping  to 
his  feet. 

"  Yes,"  said  Jones  firmly.  "  She  is  very 
honest  and  clean  and  sober,  and  she  makes 
wonderful  entrees — 

"  Jones.     You  are  crazy !  " 

"  Maybe  I  am,"  retorted  Jones  wrathfully, 
"  but  you  made  me.  Now,  what  I  want  to 
know  is,  whether  \Mifre  going  to  do  some- 
thing for  me  before  I  satisfy  my  raging  so- 
cial appetite  for  a  permanent  life  below  stairs? 
I  tell  you,  I'm  perfectly  possessed  to  marry 
my  own  cook  or  somebody  else's.  Confound 
it,  William,  I'll  do  it  this  very  afternoon  if 
you  don't  look  out !  I'm  liable  to  do  it  at  any 
moment,  I  tell  you— 

"  N-now  ?  "  stammered  Manners  aghast — 
"  Now  ?  You  don't  mean  note',  do  you,  Kelly ; 
you  wouldn't  approach  your  cook  with  s-s- 
such  intentions  to-day,  would  you,  Jonesey, 
old  friend?" 


i68          Some   I.mlics  in   Haste 

14  iTa-as,  I  \\ouhl."  growled  Jones.  "  Do 
you  know  what  I've  been  doing  thi>  morn- 
ing? Well,  I've  been  washing  off  our  side- 
walk and  exchanging  sociable  banter  with  my 
neighbors'  scullions.  I  invited  a  trolley  grip 
man  to  lunch  with  me  at  the  Stuyvesant  Club, 
hut  he  couldn't  leave  his  Hroaduav  car;  I 
wrote  my  sister's  friend.  Mrs.  Ma-iulm^ 
Grandcourt,  asking  her  to  propose  our  laun 
dress  for  the  woman's  new  Commonwealth 
Club." 

"  Jones ' 

-  What 

"  \V-wait  a  moment;  wait  until  I  can  g 
between  \  mi  and  the  door."  said  Man 
soothingly.  edging  around  liN  friend. 

Jones  swung  about  in  his  chair. 

"  Are  \ « >u  -•  »ing  to  lock  me  in  ?  "  he  asl 

u'd  hetter  not,  heratiM-  I  want  to  go 
home  and  see  how  the  cook  is  getting  on. 
I've  arranged  to  have  her  take  piano  lessons. 
She  didn't  MTIH  to  \\;mt  to.  but  I  engaged  a 
teacher  for  three  o'clock." 

Manne  ig  in  terror 

as  he  backed  toward  the  door.  "  Th-that's 
all  right,  Jones,"  he  managed  to  say.  "  I'll 
fix  it  up  for  you — I'll  g-go  out  and  fix  it  some 


A  Lady  in  Haste  169 

way  or  other.  Only  you  stay  here,  Jones — 
won't  you  ?  Listen,  Jones ;  you  wouldn't 
sneak  out  as  soon  as  I'm  gone  and  make 
straight  for  that  c-cook  and  m-m-marry  her 
— would  you,  Jonesey  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Jones  gloomily.  "  I 
know  I  ought  not  to,  but  I'm  likely  to  do 
almost  anything  in  the  culinary  line.  I  tell 
you,  I've  got  a  perfect  mania  for  an  alliance 
below  stairs,  the  farthest  downstairs  the  bet- 
ter!" 

"  W-well,  you  wait.  If  you  feel  that  way 
— if  you've  g-got  to  m-m-marry  somebody 
within  the  next  few  hours,  I'll  try  to  do  some- 
thing suitable  for  you— 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do?  I  refuse  to 
marry  any  suitable  girl.  How  are  you  going 
to  arrange  that  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  just  give  me  a — a  moment 
to  think  it  out." 

"Well,  hurry,  then,"  said  Jones.  "That 
cook  makes  good  entrees,  and  I'd  be  perfectly 
willing  to  marry  her  and  pass  my  examina- 
tions for  policeman." 

"  Will  you  wait  here  for  me  until  I  come 
back  ?  "  pleaded  Manners,  mopping  the  start- 
ing perspiration  from  his  cold  brow. 


1 70         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

"  Yes — if  you  think  you  can  do  anything 
for  me.  I'll  give  you  half  an  hour,  and  not 

another  minute 1 

"  You  promise,  Jones?  Will  you  give  me 
an  hour? — two— I  mean  three  hours?  \Yill 
you?" 

Yes  —  yes,"  with  reluctance;  "but  n«»t 
another  second.  I  want  to  go  back  to  tin- 
cook.  I  tell  you  that  cook  is  a  perfectly  good 
cook — and  I  don't  mind  being  a  policeman 
for  her  sake- 
Manners  slammed  the  door,  sped  to  Un- 
cloak room,  seized  hat,  gloves,  and  \\al kin- 
stick,  and  ran  out  into  the  sunny  streets  of 
the  metropolis,  his  head  in  a  whirl. 

His    fir-t    intention   had  been   to  rush   <li- 
tractedly  to  some  physician,  confess  the  per- 
ilous situation  of  Jones,  and  frantirally  beg 
medical  assistance  to  wean  Jones  from  his  ob- 
session with  a  strait-jacket. 

Then  it  occurred  to  him  that  his  own  san- 
ity would  instantly  be  under  suspicion,  and 
that,  if  they  detained  him  indefinitely  for  n 
ical  examination,  Jones  would  consider  him- 
self free  to  continue  his  headlong  prou 
kitchenward.     And  he  had  but  three   hours 
before  him. 


A  Lady  in  Haste  171 

What  in  the  world  could  he  do?  He 
stopped  short  in  full  career  up  Fifth  Av- 
enue, and  stared  vacantly  about.  What  was 
there  to  do?  Time  was  beating  it  around 
the  world;  every  double  tick  of  his  watch 
seemed  to  repeat  the  warning :  "  Quick  - 
quick  !  Quick — quick !  "  Even  the  minute- 
hand  pointed  to  twenty-three ;  and,  in  the  dis- 
tant siren  of  a  motor  car,  he  seemed  to  hear 
the  ominous  wail,  Skidoo — oo — oo! 

Whatever  he  was  to  accomplish  must  be 
executed  with  dispatch.  He  had  only  three 
hours! — three  hours  between  Jones  and  a 
declaration  to  the  cook!  And  in  his  excite- 
ment he  began  galloping  uptown  as  though 
driven  by  Furies. 

It  is  said  by  some  that  the  motion  of  the 
legs  incites  thought,  although  the  brain  is  not 
always  in  the  feet.  And,  as  Manners  ran,  a 
grotesquely  forlorn  idea  took  shape  —  that 
some  amiable  and  attractive  girl  of  his  ac- 
quaintance, if  all  the  deadly  and  imminent 
facts  of  Jones's  peril  were  laid  before  her, 
might,  out  of  a  noble  impulse  of  pity,  consent 
to  inspect  Jones  with  a  view  to  matrimony. 
For  what  Jones  required  was  a  lady  in  haste. 

But  everybody  feminine  and  possible  was 


172         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

out  of  town;  he  drove  madly  in  a  hansom 
from  house  to  house,  only  to  be  confronted 
with  boarded  doors  and  windows  and  lowered 
shades  displaying  the  round,  particolored  disk 
of  a  burglar-insurance  company. 

For  an  hour  he  scoured  the  districts  where 
some  stray  girl  of  his  acquaintance  might  still 
chance  to  linger  in  town.  It  was  useless ; 
Fashion  had  fled  the  city  long  since — t»- 
turn  to  a  hotel  for  a  day,  perhaps,  in  transit 
from  one  watering  place  to  another — fr»nn 
seaside  to  mountain,  and  vice  versa — but  not 
to  reopen  the  big,  closed  houses  in  the  resi- 
dential district. 

Ami  MM\N.  as  he  sat  in  his  cab,  baffled. 
IM.IUM.  (K-sprratr.  he  lo«ike«l  longingly  at  the 
prettx  u«>imn  passing  <li»nl»tlrss  in  town  for 
a  clay's  shopping.  And.  hoping  that  among 
them  might  appear  >.  »me  \\oman  he  kncu.  In- 
sat  for  another  hour,  his  cab  drawn  up  al«>n- 
the  curb,  anxiously  scanning  the  pa 

If  Jones  had  only  given  him  three  days  in- 
stead of  three  hours  he  might  have  advert 
in  the  papers:  "Wanted!  a  la<ly   in   ha~ 
and  stood  a  fair  chance  of  capturing  some- 
thing available   for  Jones  in   a  town  where 
am  thing  can  be  had  by  advertising. 


A  Lady  in  Haste  173 

"  If  somebody  I  know  doesn't  appear  pretty 
soon,"  he  muttered  excitedly  to  himself,  "  I've 
a  notion  to  pick  out  the  prettiest  girl  I  can 
find  and  tell  her  the  whole  harrowing  situa- 
tion, and  beg  her  to  take  a  look  at  Jones, 
object  matrimony.  .  .  .  The  most  she  could 
do  would  be  to  call  a  policeman ;  but  Heaven 
knows  my  intentions!  Heaven  knows  them 
to  be  pure  as  an  unborn  kitten's — 

"  The  thing  to  do,"  he  said,  as  the  sug- 
gestion grew  and  took  hold  of  him  more 
firmly —  *  The  tiling  to  do,  at  any  cost,  is  to 
save  Jones  from  that  cook !  He  mustn't  wed 
her!  I— I  won't  let  him— I  can't!  " 

Dark  thoughts  swarmed  about  him ;  dread- 
ful dreams,  unbidden,  came  crowding  upon 
him. 

"  No — no!  "  he  nuitu-ml,  appalled;  "  I  can- 
not do  that,  even  for  Jones.  I  cannot  marry 
her  to  save  my  friend !  There  must  be  some 
way — there  must  remain  some  other  solution 
of  this  hideous  problem !  " 

He  leaned  from  his  hansom,  staring  stonily 
out  at  the  passers-by. 

"  If  only  I  could  see  a  human  girl  who 
looks  as  though  she  wouldn't  call  a  police- 
man !  If  only  in  this  passing  throng,  so  self- 


174         Some   Lmlics  in  Haste 

ishly  absorbed  in  its  own  petty  coneern-.  I 
could  see  one  kind,  mild.  n«»l>le  face  —  one 
lofty  countenance  capable  of  understanding, 
of  pity,  of  sublimely  generous  impnUe 
His  muttering  ceased  abruptly,  his  astonished 
eyes  became  fixed;  then  the  bright  Hush  of 
shame  mantled  his  features. 

A  '\omij4  g\r\  in  a  dainty  Mark  Mimtner 
walking  gown  was  advancing  leisim -1\  along 
the  avenue,  glancing  severely  and  fearlessly 
about  her  out  of  a  pair  of  umiMialh  intelli- 
gent eyes.  Under  one  arm  she  carried  a 
packet. 

"By  Jove!"  muttered  Manner-;  "another 
of  my  experiment- ' 

For   instantly    he    had    ree-  m    that 

graceful,  slender  figure  and  pn-m.  al»-« 
face  another  of  his  subject*  <>ne  «.f  the 
five  unknown  and  attractive  j^irU  \\lnnn  he 
had  observed  from  the  Lenox  C'lub  window 
that  fatal  afternoon  three  months  or  more 
ago,  and  on  whom,  in  his  idle  perversity,  he 
had  experimented  —  treating  »-a«-h  mentally. 
for  whatever,  in  his  presumptuous  opinion, 
each  seemed  to  lack  in  chara« 

As  soon  as  he  recognized  her  he  n -in- 
hered what  he  had  treated  her  for.     He  had 


A  Lady  in  Haste  175 

projected  toward  her  an  emergency  dose  of 
unworldly  generosity  to  correct  the  sensu- 
ously selfish  modeling  of  the  chin,  and  the 
cold,  thin,  calculating  expression  of  the  lips. 
"  What  you  need,"  he  had  suggested  vindic- 
tively, "  is  to  learn  to  do  your  own  house- 
work and  cooking!  Think  less  about  your- 
self; give  up  your  horses  and  use  the  feet 
Heaven  gave  you !  Let  your  greatest  luxury 
be  tin-  yu-lding  to  generous  impulse!  Go  and 
revel  in  emotions,  and  smile  and  sigh  with  the 
great  out-\\<>rl<l  !  " 

And  evrr\  tiling  that  he  had  willed  for  her 
came  back  to  him  now — the  scene  itself,  that 
fresh,  sunny  April  afternoon,  himself  at  the 
club  window,  and  she,  pale,  indifferent,  over- 
dressed, glancing  out  upon  the  young  world 
so  disdainfully  from  the  comfortable  cushions 
of  her  smartly  appointed  carriage. 

And  now  here  she  was,  afoot  this  time, 
sauntering  democratically  up  Fifth  Avenue  in 
midsummer,  her  beautiful  dark  eyes  looking 
out  on  the  dusty  world,  and  with  a  new  and 
pensive  intelligence.  And  Manners  noticed 
that  her  chin  and  the  thin,  coldly  selfish  lips 
had  now  grown  full  and  sensitive  and  deli- 
cately rounded. 


176          Sonic   I. tulles  in   lie 

As  she  passed  she  glanced  up  at  Mam 
considered  him  for  a  second,  then  her  gaze 
quietly  shiftrd  elsewhere,  ami  >lu-  gassed  on 
her  \\ay  along  the  sunny  avenue,  composed, 
unconscious  that  behind  her  an  excited  indi- 
vidual. \\ raring  a  monocle,  was  hurriedly  set- 
tling obligations  with  his  cabman.  determined 
to  pursue  her  and  persuade  her  to  overlook 
informality  and  li-ten  to  the  str.  -tory 

that  a  young  girl  had  ever  dreamed  of  in  the 
metropolis  of  Manhattan. 

As  he  hastened  alter  her  he  dre\\  out  his 
\\ateh  and  glanced  at  it.  He  had  half  an 
hour  tweiiu  minuh-  to  j.iiMiade  her;  ten 
minutes  to  get  back  to  Jon< 

r    a    m.nnent    his   d  iiled    in    full 

nali/ation  of  the  almost  hopeless  situation. 
Uiit  the  ver\  sh.H  k  of  it  seemed  to  nerve  him 
IO  desperation;  the  i^irl  was  walking  ju-t 
ahead  of  him.  and  he  took  t\\o  »jniek  sti 
foruanl  and  removed  his  hat  with  t«ri"r  \\rit- 
ten  on  every  feature. 

"  D-don't  run!  "  ho  said  hoarseh  ;  "  there's 
no  dan-. 

So  alarming  was  the  countenance  she 
turned  to  look  into  that  she  involuntarily 
halted,  alert  and  startled. 


A  Lady  in  Haste  177 

"  D-don't  stop,  for  Heaven's  sake ! "  stam- 
mered Manners,  replacing  his  hat  "  Keep 
straight  on,  please!  I  only  want  a  lady  in 
haste- 

"  What  is  the  matter?"  she  murmured, 
paling  a  trifle,  but  hastily  moving  forward 
again.  "Is  anything  dreadful  behind  me?" 

"  No,  only  I.  Don't  call  a  policeman— 
don't  cross  the  street  to  avoid  me.  I — I  don't 
mean  to  be  offensive,  but  I've  simply  got  to 
tell  you  something- 
She  halted  instinctively,  a  wave  of  aston- 
ished displeasure  crimsoning  her  pretty  face. 

"  Oh ! "  he  cried  in  an  agonized  voice ; 
"  don't  do  that !  Don't  look  at  me  as  though 
you  thought  me  impertinent." 

"You  are\"  she  said  under  her  breath, 
moving  swiftly  forward  to  avoid  him  at  the 
same  time. 

"  N-no,  I'm  not !  Look  at  me !  Do  I  look 
impertinent?  I  only  look  half  scared  out  of 
my  senses,  don't  I?"  he  pleaded,  keeping 
step  with  her.  "  Can't  you  tell  when  a  man 
is  in  desperate  need  of  help?  " 

She  slackened  her  pace;  her  flushed  and 
averted  face  slowly  turned  part  way  toward 
him. 


178         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

"Are  you  asking  for  chanty'?"  she  de- 
manded incredulously. 

"  N-not  that  sort  of  help."  he  explained,  as 
lur  hand  mechanically  sought  her  purse, 
while  the  dark,  disdainful  eyes  looked  him 
steadily  in  the  face. 

\\luit  is  it  you  wish?"  she  insisted  impa- 
tiently. 

"  A  lady — just  a  plain,  ordinary  lady — and 

— and  a  few  moments'  conversation  with  \«m. 

/V;/'/   mistake   me!     Don't  condemn  me  the 

\"U — you  are  doing!     I — I'm  in  a  per- 

iVetly  ghastly  predicament,  and  I  nerd  lu-lp." 

'•    \\!:.t- 

"  A    predicament.      Please,    />/.  icve 

that  only  sheerest  desperation  drove  me  to 
this  unconventional  step.  I'm  a  perfectly  de- 
o  nt  man — if  there  was  time  I'd  ask  you  to 
look  me  up  in  the  Blue  Book  and  Social  Reg- 
ister— but  there  isn't.  I — I've  only  half  an 
hour  to  make  my  appeal  to  you  and  get  back 
to  Jones  before  he  succumbs  to  his  cook— 

"Jones!"  she  repeated,  astoni>hed  ;  Mhil 
cook\ 

Y  yet.     He's  the  man  who  is  in  this  ter- 
rible predicament— 

You  said  that  you  were!" 


A  Lady  in  Haste  179 

"  So  I  am — not  as  badly  in  as  Jones !  Oh, 
help  us — help  us,  please— 

"  Who  is  Jones  ?  "  she  asked,  utterly  per- 
plexed. 

"  K-K-Kelly  Jones — a  f-friend  of  mine. 
P-perhaps  you  know  him !  " 

"  Did  you  say  Kelly  Jones  ?  " 

"  Yes.  He's  in  the  Blue  Book,  too,  but 
IK-  won't  be  very  long  unless  you  do  some- 
thing about  it !  " 

"  I  ?  "  she  repeated,  helplessly  bewildered. 
Then  a  sudden  glimmer  of  fear  grew  in  her 
dark  eyes.  Manners  saw  it  growing.  He  had 
expected  it. 

"  You  think  I'm  biting  crazy?"  he  said 
sadly;  "  don't  you?" 

She  flushed  painfully,  but  the  strange  little 
glimmer  died  out. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  asked,  looking 
at  him  in  impatient  perplexity.  "  If  you 
really  believe  that  anything  justifies  your 
speaking  to  me  in  this  manner,  please  explain 
it  as  briefly  as  possible.  You  spoke  just  now 
in  behalf  of  a  Mr.  Jones — Kelly  Jones.  What 
has  happened  to  this  Mr.  Jones  ?  " 

"  Do  you  know  him  ? "  asked  Manners 
eagerly.  "  He's  in  most  hor-r-r-rible  danger ! 
13 


180         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

You    alone    can    aid    him!      Do    you    know 
him?" 

"You   say   he   is  in   danger?"   she  a- 
with  a  little  quaver  in  her  voice. 

"  Ter-r-r-rible ! "     he     insisted     anxiou>l\ 
"  Do  you  know  him?  " 

I  was  once  at  boarding  school  with  a  sis- 
ter of  a  Mr.  Kelly  Jones — Kelly  De  Lan 
Jones — and  I  believe  he  came  down  to  Fern- 
dale  once  or  twice.  He  probably  wouldn't 
remember  me—  She  broke  off,  surprised  at 
the  evident  delight  breaking  out  on  Man 
ners's  face  —  innocent,  guileless  delight;  and 
even  she  recogni/ed  the  naive  harmlessness 
of  the  joy  now  illuminating  the  features  of 
Mr.  Manners  until  they  fairly  exuded  a  sort 
of  unctuous  benevolcnre. 

"  The  gods/*  he  said  brokenly.  "  are  oc- 
casionally good  to  the  Irish  My  grandfather 
came  from  Roscommon,  and  my  name  is 
William  Manner  " 

"  Are  you  that  amazing  man ! "  she  ex- 
claimed in  dismay,  shrinking  back  a  pace. 
"  Are  you  the — the  Mr.  Manners — the  one 
who — who  changes  people  into — 

"  Which  victim  of  mine  do  you  know?"  he 
asked  calmly.  "Kelvin?  Gray?  Todd 


A  Lady  in  Haste  181 

"  Mrs.  Todd,"  she  admitted,  her  beautiful 
dark  eyes  reflecting  her  astonishment  and 
curiosity. 

"Oh!"  he  said  bitterly.  "So  you  know 
what  I  was  idiot  enough  to  do  to  the  Todds  ? 
Well,  what  I  did  to  the  Todds  and  Grays  and 
Kelvins  isn't  a  circumstance  to  what  I've 
managed  to  do  to  Kelly  Jones  and  y —  He 
bit  the  pronoun  off  short  on  the  very  instant 
of  self-betrayal. 

"\V-\\hut  have  you  done?"  she  breathed 
excitedly,  "  and  why  do  you  speak  so  bitterly 
about  it?  It — it  is  certainly  a  terrible  and 
fearful  power  you  have — and  yet — and  yet 
you  have  made  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Todd  very,  very 
happy." 

"  That  may  be,"  he  muttered ;  "  but  you 
don't  know  what  I've  been  through.  By 
Jove!  When  I  think  of  the  agony  I've  en- 
dured! And  now  I'm  distracted  over  Kelly 
Jones- 

"  Is — is  Mr.  Jones — i^hat  did  you  do  to  Mr. 
Jones?"  she  ventured. 

"  I  injected  a  lot  of  imbecile  ideas  into  him ! 
I  dosed  him  full  of  democracy !  I  figuratively 
turned  a  mental  hose  on  him  and  soaked 
him  all  over  with  the  milk  of  human  brother- 


182         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

hood!  He  was  a  snob,  and  I  hurled  waves 
of  social  equality  at  him !  \Yhat  an  ass  I 
was ! "  And  Manners  fairly  writhed  as  he 
walked. 

"  But — but  was  not  that  rather  helpful  to 
Mr.  Jones?"  she  asked,  intensely  interested. 

"  Helpful!  Do  you  know  \\hat  he's  trying 
to  accomplish  ?  " 

*  \\    uhat?" 

"  M  '     With  his  family  cook!" 

-he  Slid   faintly.      ""  Wh> 

"  Because  I  didn't  kn<»\\  ho\\  to  \\ork  those 
\\a\<  .mrd  Manner-;  "  an.l  because  I 

don't  kno\\  how  to  stop  'em!  Now  he's  so 
full  of  Mu-ial  dem«u-rary  that  he  \\ants  to  be 
a  pnlirnnaii  !  " 

-  Mr.  Manner^ 

"  He  does  I  That's  uhv.  driven  to  despair, 
I  dared  risk  speaking  to  \«»n." 

r.nt."  she  said,  confuse. 1.  '  I  don't  yet  un- 
derMand ' 

-hall  I  tell  you  the  startling  truth?— hut 
I'\e  NJinpls  i^ot  to  tell  you,  an\ua\  ;  and  all  I 
ask  \oii  to  promise,  in  the  beginning,  is  not 
to  run  aua\." 

I  certainly  shall  not  run  in  any  direction," 
she  said,  with  heightened  color. 


A  Lady  in  Haste  183 

"  W-well,  don't  make  me  run.  Will  you 
promise  ?  " 

She  continued  walking  in  self-possessed  si- 
lence for  a  minute  or  two.  Presently  she 
glanced  up  at  him  as  though  awaiting  further 
enlightenment. 

"  As  a  matter  of  indisputable  fact,"  began 
Manners  solemnly,  "  Kelly  Jones  is  at  this 
moment  in  my  room  at  the  Lenox  Club,  de- 
termined to  return  to  his  house  and  make  the 
family  cook  his  bride." 

The  girl  shuddered,  but  kept  her  eyes  on 
Manners. 

[<  Three  hours,"  he  continued,  "  were  al- 
lowed me  to  find  some  remedy,  some  alterna- 
tive, to  his  expressed  determination.  Two 
and  three  quarters  of  those  fatal  hours  are 
now  over.  Poor  Jones!  Poor,  unfortunate 
Jones! — in  the  clutches  of  a  mania  which  is 
no  fault  of  his ;  mad  on  the  subject  of  assorted 
scullions;  his  judgment  befuddled  with  the 
complexities  of  social  democracy;  driving 
headlong  upon  the  rocks  of  social  extinc- 
tion- 

"  Oh-h  !  "  breathed  the  girl  pitifully ;  "  yod 
must  do  something !  " 

"  Think  of  it !  "  insisted  Manners ;  "  think 


184          Some   Ladies  in   Haste 

of  this  handsome  but   wretched   young  man 
driven  helplessly  kitchenward  in  spite  of  him- 
1    a    most    attractive,    intellectual,    orna- 
mental young  man— 

"  This  is  actually  w-wicked.  Mr.  Man- 
ners! "  -aid  the  girl  hotly.  "  This  is  the  most 
shameful — 

"  It   certainly   is!"  said   Manner-  nii-craM\. 
"  I'm   at  my   wits'  end  to  know   \\hat    in  do. 
That's    why     I     ventured    to    speak    to    yu 
And,"   he   added    solemnly,    Mso    l"ti^    a-    I 
have   spoken    to   you    nothing    now    remains 
In-tween    that    unfortunate    voting    man    and 
the  soup  —  to  speak  metaphorically  —  e.\ 
you !  " 

"  I  ?     What  do  vou  mean.   Mr.   Mamin 

The  hot  color  crept  into  lu-r  cheeks  again. 

Why  do  you  come  to  me?  What  do  you 
expect  I  could  do  in  this  very  cruel  and 
shocking  mat 

I  expect  you'd  tell  me  how  to  get  Jones 
out  of  it." 

/ ':     she  repeated—44  I  ?    How  can  I  miti- 
gate this  perfectly  dreadful   thing  you  have 

done  to  him " 

It's  not  half  so  dreadful  a  thing  as  what 
he'll   do    in   about    ten    more    minutes,"   said 


A  Lady  in  Haste  185 

Manners,  dejectedly  inspecting  his  watch, 
"  unless  you  prevent  it." 

"  What  is  he  going  to  do  in  about  t-ten 
more  minutes  ?"  asked  the  girl  tremulously. 

"  I  told  you,"  he  replied,  "  that  he  has  hon- 
orable designs  on  the  family  cook." 

"  Oh !  "  she  exclaimed,  revolted  ;  "  you 
have  got  to  do  something !  You  must !  " 

*  What?"  he  asked  vacantly. 

"  Get  rid  of  that  cook ! "  she  said  with 
spirit.  "  Why  not  ?  You  must  get  rid  of  her 
instantly  and  forever !  " 

"I?  How  am  I  to  get  rid  of  her?"  he 
asked  aghast.  "  M-m-murder  her — do  you 
mean?  And  h-hide  her  m-m-mortal  remains 
in  the  t-t-tubs— 

"  Don't  talk  that  way,"  said  the  girl  nerv- 
ously ;  "  even  in  jest.  There  must  be  some 
way  —  some  other  way  of  getting  rid  of 
her- 

"  What  way  ?  We've  got  about  nine  min- 
utes left." 

The  girl  halted,  standing  stock-still.  Then, 
looking  up : 

"  Where  does  Mr.  Jones  live?  " 

"  In   Fifty-eighth  Street— the  next  block." 

"  You  know  the  hbuse,  of  course  ?  " 


i86          Sonic   I.udics  in  Haste 

Manners  admitted  that  lie  did. 

14  Then,"  she  said  with  determination,  "it 
will  be  easy  enough  to  get  rid  of  that  cook. 
All  that  is  necessary  is  for  you  to  go  t 
ask  what  wages  she's  getting,  offer  her  double 
to  leave  the  hou>e  in  eight  minutes,  and  take 
her  away  with  you — 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do  with  a  cook?  "  asked 
Manners. 

"Why,  take  her  into  \«mr  own  service,  of 
course — 

"  How  can  I  when  I  live  at  the  clu; 

"YOU  IUUM  take  her,  an\wa\!"  -aid  the 
girl  warmly.  "  It  doe-n't  makr  am  particular 
difference  to  me  what  you  do  with  her.  I  In- 
main  thing  is  to  get  her  out  of  Mr.  Joi 

house  before  he  can " 

.  I  kn«\v.     Hut  what  would  I  he  »' 
with  a  female  cook?    I  couldn't  put  her  0 
the  club.  \ou  know.     I — \<>u  d«»u't  exped  me 
to  pass  my  entire  time  in  walking  about  the 
streets  with  a  cook,  do  you?" 

"Mr.  Manners!  Yon  must  get  that  cook 
out  of  Mr.  Jones's  housr  this  in-tant  !  It's 
wicked  and  shameful  and  outrageously  selfish 
of  you  to  leave  her  there  another  moment  !  " 

"  Great  Heaven!  "  said  Manners;  *'  do  you 


A  Lady  in  Haste  187 

expect  me  to  adopt  her?  How  can  I  pay  her 
double  wages  when  I  haven't  any  kitchen  for 
her?  If  I  take  that  unfortunate  woman  out  of 
the  house  there's  apparently  nothing  left  for 
me  to  do  but  start  on  a  wedding  tour  with 
her!" 

"  What  a  horridly  selfish  man  you  are ! " 
she  said. 

Manners  breathed  harder. 

"  Oh !  "  she  exclaimed  impatiently ;  "  are 
you  going  to  stand  there  when  every  monu  nt 
is  perilous?  Are  you  going  to  do  nothing? 
Are  you  afraid?"  And,  flushing  with  a  gen- 
erous impulse  of  pity,  she  said :  "  Show  me 
that  house!  I  cannot  stand  by  and  let  such 
a  thing  happen  to  anybody  !  " 

Manners  started  forward  with  alacrity. 
"  That's  the  very  thing,"  he  said.  "  A  woman 
understands  how  to  manage  cooks  and  things. 
Here's  the  house.  I — I'd  better  not  go  in,  I 
think- 

"  You  must !  "  she  said. 

He  stood  at  the  door,  hesitating,  but  she 
leaned  forward  and  touched  the  electric  but- 
ton. 

"Anyway,  all  the  servants  have  left,"  he 
muttered. 


1 88          Some  I. u  dies  in   //(/ 

Why?"  she  asked  blankly. 

"  Because  Jones  gave  a  pink  tea  yesterday, 
and  invited  the  colored  furnaceman,  and  they 
drew  the  color  line  with  violence." 

Then — then  is  there  nobody  to  let  OS  0 
she  asked,  appalled. 

"  Only  the  cook—  He  stopped  short  as 
the  door  was  opened.  Then  he  attempted  to 
back  away,  but  the  girl,  reckless  of  appear- 
ances laid  her  hand  on  his  arm  so  that  he  was 
practically  forced  to  enter  the  house  with  her 
and  confront  a  mature  Hibernian  of  female 
persuasion,  who  returned  their  scrutiny  out 
of  two  small,  greenish  and  strabismatic  eyes. 

"Are  you  the  cook?"  asked  the  girl 
calmly. 

I  am  thatl"  replied  the  woman  emphat- 
ically. 

The  girl  turned  and  bade  Manners  remain 
where  he  \\as  in  a  voice  of  surh  remarkaMr 
decision  that  he  stood  a  moment  transti 
then,  as  the  girl  and  the  cook  disappeared  into 
the  drawing-room,  he  feebly  protruded  one 
arm  to  sustain  himself,  found  nothing  to  sup- 
port him,  and  collapsed  upon  a  gilded  hall 
seat,  his  hat  on  hi>  knees. 

For  exactly  two  minutes  the  girl  and  the 


A  Lady  in  Haste  189 

cook  remained  invisible ;  then  the  cook  ap- 
peared, laboriously  waddling  toward  the  serv- 
ants' stairway  in  the  rear,  and,  in  an  incredibly 
short  space  of  time,  reappeared  enveloped  in 
an  imitation  India  shawl,  carrying  a  bag  in 
one  fist  and  vigorously  pushing  her  prehis- 
toric bonnet  straight  with  the  other. 

At  the  same  moment  the  girl  walked  swiftly 
into  the  hallway  and  threw  open  the  front 
door. 

"  This  is  the  gentleman,  Maggie,"  said  the 
girl  cruelly.  "  He  will,  I  hope,  be  very,  very 
kind  to  you,  and  very  generous.  Perhaps  he 
may  continue  to  raise  your  wages  from 
month  to  month.  .  .  .  Are  you  ready,  Mr. 
Manners?  " 

Manners,  dazed,  stood  up  and  gazed  fear- 
fully upon  the  cook.  As  in  a  horrid  sort  of 
dream  he  slowly  realized  that  the  cook  was 
not  sober.  Tlu-n  lie  heard  the  girl  behind  him 
saying :  "  Hurry,  Mr.  Manners ;  you  are  al- 
ready a  little  late."  Then  he  found  himself 
on  the  sidewalk,  the  Irish  nightmare  wad- 
dling at  his  elbow,  and  he  halted,  casting  back 
one  wild  glance  at  the  open  door  behind  him. 

From  the  doorstep  the  girl  was  looking  at 
him,  and  in  his  exasperated  eyes  she  detected 


Sonic  Ladies  in  Haste 


the  nascent  frenzy.  With  a  sudden  nervous 
movement  she  forestalled  the  bolt  for  free- 
dom, shut  the  door,  and  sank  down  on  the 
hall  seat,  almost  hysterical  with  laughter. 

And  through  the  diamond  sidelights  she 
saw  Mr.  Manners  wandering  down  the  stint 
as  though  Miipehcd,  and  at  his  elbow  a  com- 
placently befuddled  cook,  steadying  her  step- 
with  great  dignity  beside  his,  and  continually 
attempting  to  straighten  the  bonnet,  which 
had  a  tendency  u>  >lip  down  over  her  right 
eye. 


CHAPTER   VIII 


ABSENT   TREATMENT 

]OR  a  minute  or  two  the  young 
girl  behind  the  door  watched 
the  amazing  progress  of  Man- 
ners and  his  cook,  giving  them 
a  full  three  minutes  to  disap- 
pear into  the  jungles  of  Sixth  Avenue;  then, 
weak  with  laughter,  she  rose  and  laid  her 
hand  on  the  door,  ready  to  make  her  own 
escape. 

At  the  same  instant  a  man's  shadowy  figure 
darkened  the  glass  from  the  outside,  and  she 
heard  the  impatient  fumbling  of  a  latchkey 
in  the  lock. 

191 


Some   /.(/<//V.N   /'// 


"Jones!"  she  whispered  with  whitening 
lips.  u  \\'hat  on  earth  am  I  to  d 

<  dancing  right  and  left  in  pallid  despera- 
tion she  shrank  back  ;  and  as  the  heavy  glass 
and  wrought-iron  door  began  to  open,  she 
turned  and  fairly  took  to  her  heels,  nmnint; 
s\\iftly.  blindK.  \  rt  with  some  occult  instinct, 
too,  for  in  a  moment  more  she  found  herself 
in  the  laundry. 

The  same  instinct  also,  perhap-.  M-I  her 
rapidly  unpinning  her  hat  an<l  tiu  -kini^  it  ami 
her  gloves  and  pur-e  a\\ay  in  the  depths  of  an 
ironing  table. 

I  •••rtunately     she     was     dressed     in     bl.i 

lily    laundered   caps  and  aprons  lay   in   a 
clothes   basket    near  by  —  rclic>.   m»  iloul.- 
the  departed  maid>.     She  luard  a  M(  j»  .  m  the 
kitchen    st.-m  .m,l   |»mm-(l   it   .  m 

her  dark  hair,  threw  on  a  ruftled  apr.m.  and. 
frightened  almost  to  death,  tnrmd  t«»  confront 
him. 

44  M  he-an     |.'iir».    \\alkini:    -loulv 

from  the  kitchen  to\\ard  the  laundry.  "  thi>  i^ 
a  very  solemn  moment  in  your  life  and  in 
mine.  Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets, 
Maggie,  and  beauty  i>  but  skin  deep.  All 
human  beings  are  born  free  and  equal,  and 


Absent  Treatment  193 

your  present  condition  of  servitude,  Maggie, 
is  an  outrageous  anachronism.  Tyrannical 
society  and  the  despotism  of  wealth,  em- 
bodied in  me,  Maggie,  have  come  into  your 
humble  kitchen  to  offer  you  reparation— 

1 1  c  stopped  suddenly  as  he  arrived  at  the 
launch -\  door  and  blinked  in  mild  surprise. 

"  Where's  Maggie?"  he  asked,  inspecting 
the  strange,  youthful  figure  in  cap  and  apron, 
backed  up  fearfully  against  the  tubs. 

"  M-Maggie,  the  cook  ?  "  she  asked  faintly. 
"  I  think  she  went  away." 

"What?" 

"  Y-yes ;  with  a  gentleman." 

"What  gentleman?" 

"  The — the  one  who  brought  me  here — Mr. 
Manners." 

"  Manners !  Manners !  "  exclaimed  Jones. 
"  You  tell  me  that  William  Manners  has  been 
here  and  gone  off  with  my  cook  ?  " 

"  Y-yes." 

Profoundly  astonished,  Jones  sat  down  on 
the  clothes  basket. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  he's  actu- 
ally taken  her  away  ?  "  he  murmured. 

"  Yes— for  good." 

Jones  drew  a  long,  deep  breath  of  relief. 


194         Sonic  Ladies  in  Haste 

"  It  was  high  time/'  he  said,  with  a  shud- 
der. "I've  had  a  narrow  escape!  She  was 
not — not  physically  very  attractive.  I  am 
glad  yon  are." 

"W-what?" 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  are  physically  at- 
tractive, because  it  will  be  easier  for  me  to 
offer  you  marriage.  You  see,  I'm  determined 
to  marry  somebody's  cook,  and  it  might  as 
wi-11  l>r  my  own.  Have  \  *  »u  any  to\\n  refer- 
ence 

"  N-no,"  she  gasped. 

"That  makes  n«»  difference."  he  said  kind- 
ly.  "  Perhaps  you've  just  come  off  the  Maud. 
but  I  don't  mind.  You  see.  m\  -  the 

simple  i  i vrd  of  brotherly  love  and  e.|ualit\. 
I  he  artificial  social  codes  and  laws  \\hich  put 
\«.u  behind  the  bars " 

'  I'.ut  1  hurcnt  been  in  prison!"  she  said 
hysterically. 

"  It's  all  the  same  to  me,"  observed  Jones 
mildly.     "  Sin  should  be  its  own  punishment. 
l\<  taliation  is  barbarous.     I  remembered  that 
\\heii  1  wanted  to  assault  Manners  this  a; 
noon." 

lie  shuddered  again  and  looked  up  into  the 
face  of  the  ^irl  by  the  window. 


Absent  Treatment  195 

"  I'm  glad  Maggie  has  gone,"  he  said,  "  be- 
cause I  should  not  have  avoided  my  duty  had 
she  remained.  And  now  the  decision  remains 
with  you." 

"What  decision?" 

"  About  marrying  me.    Will  you  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Jones !  Would  you  actually  marry  a 
— a  cook  ?  " 

Jones  did  not  answer  immediately.  He  sat 
on  the  edge  of  the  clothes  hamper,  a  curious 
expression  on  his  face.  Suddenly  a  ghastly 
pallor  whitened  it;  he  rose  unsteadily  to  his 
feet. 

"  It's  odd,"  he  muttered;  "  something  seems 
to  be  happening  to  me  all  over !  " — And  he 
began  to  move  blindly  toward  the  door,  sway- 
ing as  he  progressed. 

Dismayed,  the  girl  looked  after  him ;  then, 
as  he  began  to  stumble  up  the  stairway,  she 
followed  swiftly,  saw  him  almost  fall  twice,  re- 
cover, and  start  dizzily  toward  the  drawing- 
room. 

"  Are  you  very  ill  ?  "  she  asked,  stepping 
up  beside  him. 

"  No — something     rather    agreeable    than 
otherwise  seems  to  be  happening  to  me."    He 
reeled,  and  she  caught  him. 
14 


196         Some   l.mlics  in   lid 

"Thank     you;    if     I     could     roach     a  —  a 

ourage!"  she  said,  resoluuh  control- 
ling IUT  own  dismay,  and  supporting  him 
to  the  nearest  lounge,  where  he  sank  do\\n 
on  the  brocaded  cushions  limp,  astonished 
at  his  own  condition,  hut  curiously  contented. 

"Something  is  surely   happening  to  me." 
he  repeated.     '    I  believe — I  believe  that  Man- 
ners is  giving  me  some  more  absent  treatment 
—powerful,    concentrated,    emergency    ti 
ment — in  relation  to  you." 

"To  wir!"  slu-  repeaud.   startled. 

"  Yes — yes,    I    am    sure    of   it    now  ! 
How  b-b-beautiful  you  are !  "  he  sighed  sen- 
timentally.     "How    exquisitely    attractive    is 
that  cap  and  apron!    And  your  divimK  dark 
I,  and   \oiir  lovely  mouth,  and " 

"  Mr.  Jon< 

I    can't    help   it;  he's   making  me  adore 
you! 

"What!"  she  crie  -crated. 

The  telephone  upstairs  began  to  ring  vio- 
lently. 

"Would  you   mind  answering?"  he  asked 
appealingly.     *'  I'm   still  rather  di 

She  straightened  up.  turned,  and  mounted 


Absent  Treatment  197 

the  stairs  with  wrath  in  her  eyes.  The  next 
moment  the  whir  of  the  telephone  bell  ceased ; 
Jones  heard  her  voice,  scornfully  level  and 
even  in  tone,  then  silence,  then  a  startled  ex- 
clamation. And  now  her  voice  became  ani- 
mated, expostulatory,  indignant,  pleading  by 
turns : 

"  Mr.    Manners !     I    refuse   to  understand 
you." 

"  Of  course,  I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  shift 
Mr.  Jones's  affections  to  a  worthier— 

"  You  say  that  you  are  now  giving  Mr. 
Jones  this  new  treatment  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  Mr.  Jones  is  apparently  already  af- 
fected by  something !  " 

[t  Yes,  you  certainly  have  proved  that  you 
are  able  to  give  absent  mental  treatment." 

"What!!!" 

•  •  •  •  • 

"  Mr.    Manners,    that   is   the    most    outra- 
geously impudent  threat " 


198         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

"What!!!  To  revenge  yourself  for  what 
you  suffered  with  that  cook!  It  certainly  was 
not  my  fault— 

Yes,  I  did  laugh,  but  I  couldn't  help  it." 

"Mr.  Mannrr-!  Y<m  simply  dare  not  at- 
tempt such  a  tiling  on  Mr.  Jones  and  me, 
even  if  von  did  promise  him  a  lady  in  haste." 

"  I  can't  help  it;  1  am  very  sorry  for  Mr. 
Jones,  hut  I  certainly  do  not  wish  to  learn  to 
care  for  him " 

"  Make  me  love  Mr.  Jones ! 

.  .  .  .  . 

"What!  Yon  ^iv  \,,n  are  making  me  fall 
in  love  with  Mr.  Jones?  Noivf  Mr.  Man- 

.  you  exa-prratr  m< •!     You  are  the  \\ 
edest  mischief-maker  in  the  \\orld-or  would 
be  if  you  could  be!     But  1  def\  you  to  force 
iiu-   t«>  <lo  any " 

You're  making  him  care  for  i; 

I    don't    believe   it!      You   can't    do    it! 
H-Heaven  won't  allow  you  to  do  such  things 


Absent  Treatment  199 

to  Kelly !  Oh-h  ! — You've  made  me  call  him 
Kelly  already!  You  —  you  are  frightening 
me,  Mr.  Manners !  I — I  admit  that  you  can 
do  these  terrible  things — I  confess  your  aw- 
ful power!  But  don't,  Mr.  Manners,  please, 
please  don't  m-make  me  care  for  him !  " 

"  Oh,  you  arc !  You  are  making  me  care 
for  him  now\  Care  more  for  him  every  sec- 
ond !  You  are  making  me  care  for  him  most 
excessively ! " 

"  No!!  I — I  don't  want  you  to  stop— now! 
I — It's  too  late;  you've  made  me  b-b-begin 
to  love  him !  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  love  him !  I  don't  care  what 
you  do  to  us  now,  because  I  am  perfectly 
mad  about  him." 

"  Yes,  I  do  forgive  you.  I  am  too  happy 
not  to.  I — It  certainly  was  perfectly  dear  of 
you  to  make  me  so  celestially  happy.  .  .  . 
And  he's  downstairs.  And  I  can't  endure  this 
separation  from  him  another  instant!  So. 
good-by " 


200  me   I.  tnlics   in 


"  Yes,  it  is  heavenly  to  be  so  thoroughly  in 
love  !  Good-by  -  " 

"Oh,  what?" 

"  I  don't  care  what  anybody  says!" 

Yes,      I    am    willing   to   be    his   lady    in 
hast. 

•  •  .  • 

"All  right,  if  you  think  we  ought  to  have 
a  clergyman  this  afternoon." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  !  Bring  any  clergyman 
convenient.  Ill  tell  Krlly  how  kind  you  are. 
Good-by 

And  then  she  rang  off,  flushed,  radiant, 
wonder-eyed  in  the  dazzling  beauty  of  a  world 
transformed  miraculously  into  Paradise  in  as 
many  minutes  as  her  young  life  could  count 
in  y< 

Then  listening,  alert,  she  heanl.  \\ith  an 
cited  flutter  in  her  heart,  tlu-  furtive  step  of 
Jones  upon  the  stair,  and  she  sprang  to  her 
feet,  trembling  in  delicious  trepidation  as  he 
entered  the  room.  They  stared  at  one  an- 
other, spellbound,  fascinated. 


44  Sweetheart,'  he  whispered  naively,  partly  because  he  didn't 
know  her  other  name." 


Absent  Treatment        .     201 

"  Sweetheart,"  he  whispered  naively,  partly 
because  he  didn't  know  her  other  name. 

And  she  forgot  to  tell  him,  surrendering  to 
him  her  slender,  fragrant  hands  as  he  knelt 
there  at  her  feet ;  and,  desperately  in  love,  she 
gazed  down  at  him,  tremulous,  half  fearful, 
adoring  the  adoration  in  his  upturned  ana 
worshiping  eyes. 

So  came  to  Jones  his  Lady  in  Haste. 


CHAPTER   IX 

SUI    GENERIS 

MM  R  the  nose  of  William 
Manners  the  lid  of  Pandora's 
Box  had  now  been  twitched 
wide  open  l»y  tin-  demon  of  no- 
toriety ;  around  William  V 
ners  plagues  and  troubles  of  various  species 
were  swarming  thick  and  fast.  For  no  sooner 
did  the  metropolitan  public  awake  to  the  fact 
that  there  existed  on  the  island  of  Manhattan 
a  man  who,  through  mental  suggestion,  was 
able  to  influence,  mold,  and  change  the  char- 
acter and  fortune  of  any  individual  to  suit  hi^ 

202 


Siti  Generis  203 


own  whim  and  fancy,  than  that  same  public 
arose  and  rushed  upon  Manners,  confident  of 
the  millennium  as  advertised,  and  determined 
to  secure  large  slices  at  bargain  prices  before 
it  was  all  gone. 

Apparently,  everybody  in  New  York  de- 
sired to  interview  this  young  man  who,  they 
believed,  was  not  only  able  to  turn  them  all 
into  whatever  they  desired  to  be,  but  who 
also  might  be  persuaded  to  transform  other 
people  into  other  things  for  their  benefit. 

Hundreds  and  hundreds  of  letters  poured 
into  the  club  for  Manners,  many  containing 
money  or  clucks  \\ith  requests  for  a  course 
of  absent  mental  treatment.  Some  desired  to 
be  endowed  with  beauty,  some  with  an  educa- 
tion, some  with  love,  a  few  with  common 
sense,  and  all  with  the  ability  to  make  for- 
tunes within  the  week. 

At  first  Manners  attempted  to  return  mon- 
ey and  checks  with  a  polite  note  of  refusal 
for  every  applicant,  but  the  letters  continued 
to  arrive  by  thousands ;  the  club  servants 
stacked  them  up  in  piles  on  the  floor  of  his 
room ;  the  club  authorities,  astonished  and  ir- 
ritated, sent  word  to  Manners  that  a  club  was 
no  place  in  which  to  conduct  private  business. 


204         Some   Ladies  in   Haste 

But  Manners  could  neither  stop  the  ava- 
lanche of  letters  nor  return  their  contents. 
People  began  to  call  at  the  club  to  inquire 
for  him— odd-looking  people — types  from  the 
Rialto,  Third  and  Sixth  Avenues,  "  profes- 
sors "  of  various  "  sciences,"  fat  females  elab- 
orately overdecorated,  palmists,  astrolo^ 
\M-ird  flotsam  from  the  reeking  gridiron  west 
of  Long  Acre,  shabby  curb  brokers,  book- 
makers, seedy  touts  from  Forty-second  Street, 
and  bright-eyed,  bright-check r<l  yumg  per- 
sons, amply  endowed  with  unduloux  h. 
and  diamond  ing  small  toy  dogs  and  a 

heavy  scent  of  vioK 

Up  rose  the  governors  <>f  tlu-  rlub  in  their 
indignation,  ri'«|iu>ting  Manners  to  consider 
himself  suspended.  Then  the  post-office  au- 
thorities seized  his  letters,  carted  them  off  on 
a  truck,  and  threatened  to  proceed  against 
him  for  improper  use  of  the  mails;  two  po- 
licemen were  stationed  to  watch  the  club  as 
a  suspicious  resort,  and  a  committee  of  very 
young  clergymen  \\aited  upon  the  mayor  to 
protest  against  Manners  as  a  public  menace 
to  morals. 

Manners  packed  his  belongings  and  fled, 
but  Destiny  ran  after  him  and  whacked  him 


Generis  205 


again  for  good  measure ;  and  the  next  morn- 
ing's papers  announced  the  failure  of  the  Pine 
Barrens  Irrigation  Company,  William  Man- 
ners president  and  principal  stockholder. 
Thus  did  blind  Justice  redress  the  balance; 
thus  did  the  normal  kick  the  abnormal ;  thus 
did  an  old-fashioned,  everyday,  commonplace 
world  bump  William  Manners  to  rebuke  him 
for  bringing  into  it  what  belonged  somewhere 
between  Avernus  and  Harlem. 

Too  long  had  a  respectable  and  unimagina- 
tive planet  put  up  with  mediums  and  table 
tippings  and  Columbia  University ;  William 
Manners  and  his  absent  treatment  were  too 
much.  So  the  world  reared  on  its  hind  legs 
and  butted  him  hard.  And  a  month  later 
William  Manners  might  have  been  seen  seated 
thoughtfully  upon  a  rail  fence,  contemplat- 
ing the  rural  scenery  of  northern  New  York 
State. 

There  was  scarcely  anything  there  except 
scenery,  unless  a  tumble-down  farmhouse 
might  be  included.  But  even  that  was  a  sight 
in  itself. 

Pines  and  oaks  and  elms ;  uplands  covered 
with  sweet  fern  and  wild  grass ;  distant  fields 
of  buckwheat  and  oats ;  distant  pastures  where 


206         Sonic  l.mlics  in  Haste 

cattle  stood  looking  like  the  newly  painted 
inmates  of  Noah's  Ark — these,  and  a  d 
road,  seemed  to  be  the  only  noticeable  adorn- 
ments of  the  immediate  landscape.  Beyond 
the  low  hills  he  did  not  know  what  la\.  1I< 
had  rented  this  lonely  little  farm  with  part 
<>t  the  few  dollars  remaining  to  him  after 
the  crash  in  Pine  Barrens  Irrigation  stock; 
and  now  he  sat  down  for  a  few  moments  to 
catch  his  breath  and  recover  hi>  M- If  posses- 
sion. It  was  all  he  could  hope  to  recover 
and  possess. 

The  outskirts  of  Coon  Corners  appeared  to 
be  peculiarly  fashioned  for  the  retirement, 
self-effacement,  and  spiritual  meditation  of 
man.  With  the  aid  of  a  scant  quart  of  milk, 
which  he  managed  occasionally  to  wring  from 
his  cow,  he  supplied  himself  with  nourishing 
drink  and  e  A  crossroads  store  at 

Coon  Corners,  two  miles  away,  furnished  him 
with  moldy  groceries;  a  small  garden  with 
recreation,  vegetables  and  weeds,  also  bait  for 
fishing. 

To  mitigate  the  blow  and  accustom  himself 
gradually  to  his  altered  circumstances  in  life, 
he  always  dressed  for  dinner  and  served  him- 
self with  milk,  potatoes,  bacon,  and  carrots 


Sui  Generis  207 


in  courses.  Between  courses  he  played  on  his 
harmonica,  because,  in  town,  he  had  been  ac- 
customed to  restaurant  music.  The  music 
also  served  to  fill  voids — voids  of  all  sorts 
— as,  for  example,  when  he  couldn't  bring 
himself  to  swallow  his  own  cooking,  or  when 
the  stillness  around  him  got  hold  of  his  nerves 
and  clawed  them. 

After  dinner  he  always  removed  his  even- 
ing clothes,  tied  on  an  apron,  and  performed 
household  rites.  Then  he  would  dress  again 
and  sit  on  the  porch  and  watch  fireflies  and 
listen  intently  to  his  cow  bell. 

This  had  now  continued  for  a  month ;  he 
lived  mechanically,  moved  and  breathed  and 
had  his  being  automatically;  for  he  was  still 
partly  stupefied  by  the  suddenness  of  the 
overwhelming  calamity  which  had  befallen 
him. 

Little  by  little,  however,  the  mental  numb- 
ness began  to  leave  him,  and  the  raw  wound 
began  to  sting. 

One  dreadful  day  and  night  of  despair 
capped  the  climax,  but  that  was  the  worst ; 
he  at  last  fully  realized  the  situation,  accepted 
it  pro  tern.,  and  seated  himself  upon  the  hard 
top  rail  of  experience,  a  grass  stem  between 


208         Sotnc  /.(/(//r.c  in  Haste 

his  lips,  his  eyes  fixed  absently  upon  his  cow, 
\\lio  returned   his  stare,  placidly  cheum-. 

"  William,"  he  said  to  himsdf.  "  this  is  not 
Hell:  it  is  only  Purgatory;  and  you  de- 
it.  For  you  might  have  wrought  much  evil 
with  your  spells,  William;  and  the  laws  of 
natural  phenomena  neither  govern  such  an- 
tics  as  you  once  chose  to  indulge  in,  nor  do 
they  permit  you  a  place  or  an  existence  in  a 
planet  where  only  the  normal  is  consistently 
possible.  Nature,  which  specifically  abhors  a 
vanillin,  isn't  going  to  tolerate  any  other 
kinds  of  unnatural  phenomena.  You  pro- 
duced several,  and  here  you  are!  You  piti- 
ful, tenth-rate  sorcerer!  William,  you  disgust 
mi 

He  reached  up,  twistol  »>tT  a  twig  of  sweet 
birch,  chewed  it,  and  meditat 

"  t'ninvited  and  unsuspected,  you  gave  ab- 
-riit  mental  treatment  to  ten  people  —  five 
nun.  friends  of  yours ;  five  unknown  and  or- 
namental maidens  whom  you  did  not  know. 
You  saw  these  innocent  youn^  tfirls  passing 
the  club  window;  out  of  idle  and  devilish  per- 
versity, you  sent  impudent  mental  waves  in 
their  direction.  Fortunatelx .  of  your  ten  vic- 
tims, a  kindly  Fate  has  accounted  for  eight. 


Sui  Generis  209 


They  are  married  and  happy.  But,  William, 
there  are  two  remaining  unaccounted  for. 
You  directed  a  powerful  current  of  mental 
suggestion  at  Billy  West,  with  the  intention 
of  instilling  into  that  mild  and  inert  youth  a 
passion  for  pernicious  activity  —  mental  and 
physical. 

"  Now,  that  current  evidently  went  astray, 
because  Billy  West  remains  unchanged.  It 
must  have  missed  its  object  and  been  inter- 
cepted by  somebody  else.  Who?" 

Manners  chewed  his  birch  twig  thought- 
fully. 

"  Who  ?  What  person  in  the  world  do  you 
hear  of  as  exhibiting  irritatingly  strenuous 
activities  in  matters  which  do  not  concern 
him?  To  begin  at  the  top,  there's  the  Kaiser. 
That  powerful  mental  current  may  have  been 
intercepted  by  him,  or  by  —  by  our  own 
great- 
Horror  contorted  Manners's  features. 
"  Heavens !  "  he  gasped  ;  "  is  that  the  ex- 
planation ?  Does  that  account  for  it  all  ?  Has 
the  greatest  of  all  patriots  and  moralists  and 
naturalists  intercepted  that  errant  current 
which  I  directed  at  Billy  West?  And  has  it 
double  charged  him  with  an  explosively  Jove- 


2io         Sonic  Ladies  in  Haste 

like  and  omniscient   energy  which  pervades 
every  subject  discussed  on  top  of  this  intel 
Krtual   hemisphere,   from   railroads  to  runii 
nants,  from  eels  to  Ethiopians,  from  sagas  to 
cinnamons,  from  trusts  to  the  nesting  habits 
of  tlu-  sprekled  tomtit  ?  " 

And,  as  he  sat  there  on  the  top  rail,  tin- 
poisonous  conviction  settled   upon  him — like 
a  horsefly  on  a  colt — that  the  greatest  states- 
man   who  ever  existed   in    America    had   re- 
«1    the    full    impart    of   tlu-    errant    mental 
current   which  he  had  hurled  at    Hilly   \\  V»t. 
.    that    part    of   the   great    ma;  taetl 

i-tly  due  to  the  reception  and  bottling 
up  of  this  pouerfnllv  strenuous  and  stimulat- 
ing   current  ;    what    this    human    marvel    had 
uas   as   nothing  compared   to   \\hat    he 
\\ould    \et    l»e.    and   do.   and   say.      Railroads 
should  tumble,  ambassadors  tremble.  n,v 
should  be  afraid,  tomtits  no  longer  nn'sr, 
seuted  in  sru-ntitie  fiction,  and   the    Ethiopian 
should  be  exalted! 

Manners9!     i\es    filled     with    devout    and 
thankful  tea 

Heaven  i-  -till  good  to  the  Irish-Ameri- 
cans of  Dutch  descent."  he  murmured.  '  \«» 
other  man  could  have  endured  ami  assimilated 


Sui  Generis  211 


that  current ;  the  country  would  have  toler- 
ated no  rival.  To  him  that  hath  shall  be 
given.  It  is  all  right.  The  country  is  as  safe 
as  ever.  The  faker  is  doomed  !  " 

Vastly,  humbly,  profoundly  relieved  by  the 
solution  of  this  anxious  problem,  Manners,  in 
his  relief  and  joy,  slid  from  the  top  rail  and 
frisked  about  the  pasture. 

He  was  very,  very  happy;  he  wove  a  gar- 
land of  meadow  flowers  and  hung  it  around 
the  neck  of  his  cow.  He  went  and  got  his 
harmonica  and  played  on  it,  and  the  cow 
thrust  her  large,  furry  ears  forward,  listening 
in  bovine  amazement  to  her  first  serenade. 

Manners  talked  to  her — he  had  only  him- 
self and  the  cow  to  converse  with,  and  he  ex- 
plained to  her  excitedly  that  he  was  now  al- 
most free  from  sin — that  of  the  ten  crimes 
committed  by  him  only  one  still  remained  un- 
accounted and  unatoned  for. 

"  It  was  a  girl,"  he  continued  vaguely,  lay- 
ing his  harmonica  aside  on  the  grass  —  "a 
slim,  freckled,  gray-eyed,  sweet-lipped  young 
thing,  coming  out  of  her  house,  evidently  on 
her  way  to  the  country  for  the  summer.  A 
legion  of  maids  and  butlers  and  second  men 
and  footmen  danced  attendance  about  her; 


212         Some  Ladies  in  Ho 

some  carried  bundles,  some  satchels,  some  pet 
dogs  and  birds,  some  robes  and  traveling- 
rugs.  And,  looking  at  her,  so  pretty  and 
freckled,  and  thin  and  helpless  to  do  anything 
for  herself,  I  sent  a  good,  strong  mental  wave 
straight  at  her. 

Young  woman/  I  said,  '  get  rid  of  all 
those  servants  and  learn  to  do  things  for 
yourself  if  you  want  your  figure  to  look  like 
a  woman's  and  not  like  a  bn\V  Tse  your 
limbs  and  muscles!  Go  out  into  the  fields 
and  rake  hay.  Go  and  potter  about  in  gar- 
dens, and  trim  hedges,  and  milk  cattle,  and 
feed  chirk t-ns.  and  eat  ham  and  flapjacks  \\ith 
maple  sirup,  and  cook  'em,  too,  occasionally ! 
Go  and  hoist  up  water  in  the  old  oaken 
bucket!  It's  full  of  germs,  but  they  won't 
hurt  anybody.'  That's  what  I  said,"  nodded 
Manners  to  Ins  cowf  ami  I  added  my  advice 
that  she  ultimately  marry  a  farn 

The  cow  wa<  n,,\v  eating  the  garland  he 
had  woven  for  her ;  Manners  observed  the  op- 
eration pensively. 

•  I  believe-."  he  said  aloud  to  himself,  I 
really  believe  that  my  exile  and  isolation  and 
social  excommunication  would  cease,  auto- 
matically, if  only  I  could  be  absolved  from 


Sni  Generis  213 


that  last  sin  of  mine — if  only  I  could  be  cer- 
tain that  my  miserable  interference  had  not 
changed  and  blighted  forever  the  life  of  this 
gently  bred  young  girl. 

"  Somewhere  —  somewhere  —  this  very  mo- 
ment she  is  probably  raking  hay,  barefooted ! 
She  may  be  far  too  frail  to  endure  such  a  life 
— endure  ham  and  pancakes,  and  the  smells  of 
barnyards!  Slu  may  now  be  sicklied  o'er 
with  the  pale  cast  of  pie !  " 

He  dropped  his  head  in  his  hands;  all  his 
light-hearted  optimism  had  died  out  as  he  re- 
membered what  he  had  done  to  that  girl, 
scarcely  nineteen — a  frail,  unformed  creature, 
utterly  unfitted  to  endure  the  fate  to  which  he 
had  so  flippantly  condemned  her. 

The  cow,  having  finished  the  garland,  re- 
produced a  portion  of  it  in  the  form  of  a  cud, 
and,  gravely  chewing  it,  regarded  the  dejected 
young  man  with  gratitude. 

"  To  think,"  he  groaned  aloud,  "  that  I  de- 
liberately consigned  her  to  this  sort  of  a  life! 
Somewhere,  at  this  very  moment,  half  dead 
with  indigestion,  she  is  probably  frying  a 
steak.  Somewhere  she  may  be  hanging  out 
the  domestic  wash,  her  slender  body  racked 
with  a  hacking  cough.  Or  she  may  be  daw- 


214         Some  Ladies  in   //</ 

dling  by  the  roadside  with  some  frow/y  l«»m 
uho  is  courting  her,  or  >lu-   may   be  alrcad\ 
married  to  a  rural  so\eivi-n  \\ith  chin  \\hi- 
.   wh»>-e  proudest  article  of  apparel  con- 
sists of  a  pair  of  red  braces  \\hich  he  disp' 
at  the  Sunday  dinner  tahle." 

The  i)ieture  evoked  overcame   Mann 

"  It's  awful!"  he  groaned.     "  1   deserve  all 
this.     And.  as  far  as  I  can  see,  I'm  likcl\   to 
remain  in  this  awful  place  and  milk  tin-  r 
nal  cow  unless  I  can  find  that  girl  and  atone 
for  \\hat    I've  done  by  marrying  her!" 

He  rose  to  his  feet  \\earily. 

"  But  to  make  her  marry  a  man  like  me 
wouldn't   he   any   atonement,"   he  added.      '    If 
I    did    that    I'd    only    aggravate    in- 
Great  Dingums!    Will  I  ever  be  able  to  i 
the    \\nmg    I    have   done   her  and   get    a\\ay 
from  that  confounded  cow  and  these  dinners 
of  carrot-  and  prune 

For  a  while  he  pottered  sullenly  about  in 
the  garden,  picking  pea-.  Me  shelled  them 
later,  then  dragged  <»ut  an  ironing  board  and 
made  preparations  to  iron  the  few  shirts  re- 
maining to  him. 

It  \\as  a  laborious  task;  first  he  usually 
burned  himself,  then  several  of  the  shirts. 


Sui  Generis  215 


Starch  was  a  substance  which  he  seemed  to 
have  no  control  of,  for  what,  in  a  shirt,  should 
have  been  soft  and  flexible,  became  stark  and 
stiff  as  sheet  iron,  so  that  when  he  wore  one 
of  his  self-ironed  garments  it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  sit  down. 

He  thought  he  might  as  well  break  in  one 
for  the  evening,  as  he  was  obliged  to  stand 
while  ironing;  so  he  retired  and  invested  him- 
self in  a  shirt  which  seemed  in  condition  to 
defy  armor-piercing  shells  fired  from  the  south 
front. 

However,  he  rolled  up  his  sleeves,  seized  a 
hot  flatiron  from  the  kitchen  stove,  and, 
spreading  a  damp  garment  across  the  wabbly 
board,  began  ironing  away  with  courage  and 
determination. 

From  time  to  time  through  the  open  door 
he  glanced  out  across  the  pasture.  Some- 
times he  saw  a  dickey  bird,  sometimes  a  but- 
terfly, usually  nothing  at  all  except  the  view. 

"  Of  course,"  he  argued,  but  with  a  sinking 
heart,  "  this  is  too  awful  to  continue.  Some- 
thing's got  to  happen :  I'll  either  die  of  indi- 
gestion, or  go  mad  and  run  into  the  tall 
grass,  or — or  find  that  girl." 

He  set  his  flatiron  back  on  the  stove,  lift- 


2i6  ;;/('   Ladies  in   Haste 

ed  another,  tc-tcd  it.  and  began  to  iron  again. 
And  as  the  smooth,  hot  metal  slid  over  tin 
bosom  of  the  only  shirt  remaining  Mill  in- 
tact, he  raised  his  eyes  to  see  if  tin  TC  x\as 
anything  to  look  at  outdoors,  and  beca un- 
aware of  something  darkening  his  doorway — 
a  pink  sunbonnet.  and  two  grax  eyCS  un<l 
and  a  nose  xxith  M-vera!  adorable  frcckK  -.  and 
the  oval  of  a  youthful  face,  and  the 
mouth  he  had  ever  beheld — all  at  his  kitchen 
door. 

Tli-  also  a  plumply  rounded  figure  in 

a  gingham  go\\n.  and  txxo  sun  tanned  han«U 
as  fascinating   in   proportions  as  the  slim 
visible  at  the  edge  of  the  gingham   go\\n. 

Meantime   his    iron   had    imprinted    a   l,r 
burnt  spot  on  the  IMJMHU  of  his  best  shirt,  and 
the  garment  had  begun  to  MII,,: 

Hut   what  did   he   O  -mg  then    tran- 

fixed,   ecstatically    incredulous!      The    smoke 
from  his  scorching  shirt  mounted  lik< 
from  the  ironing  board;  the   sunshine  behind 
her  sunbonnet  spun  a  glimmering  halo,  turn- 
ing the  pink  gingham  to  an  aureole. 

'  The  goddess — r.r  tnachimi !  "  he  whi-p- 
jaw  dropping  in   holy  axxe.     Then,  in  the  de- 
lirium of  reaction,  he  flung  flatiron  and  shirt 


Sui  Generis  217 


into  a  corner,  kicked  over  the  board  and  the 
chairs  supporting  it,  hurled  the  pan  of  freshly 
stripped  peas  into  the  pantry,  pulled  down  his 
sleeves,  and  struggled  into  his  coat. 

Meanwhile  the  girl  in  the  pink  sunbonnet 
was  running  away.    Manners  ran  after  her. 


CHAPTER   X 


1  \     M  \t  IIINA 

1 1  K  j^irl   u  a>   rnnnit 

the  pasture!  She  took 
the  rail  fence  \\  ith  t1\  ini: 
n  fliitti-riii^. 

for  it  as  SOUK-  ^lini  thorough- 
bred.     Mannrrs    rose   grandly    to    tl 
clearing  the  top   rail   in  spite  of  his 
armor,    and    away    he    galloped    toward    the 
young  woodland  after  her. 

Don't  run!"  he  called  out:  1  in  not 
mad,  even  if  I  was  ironing  shirts!  I — I'm 
p-perfectly  t-t-taim  !  I  want  to  tell  you  some- 
thing." 

218 


Ex  Ma  chin  a  219 

Whether  or  not  she  understood  seemed 
doubtful ;  she  cast  one  swift,  keen  glance  over 
her  shoulder,  then,  jumping  the  brook,  sped 
up  the  opposite  slope  and,  with  the  last  rem- 
nant of  strength,  climbed  into  a  maple  tree, 
where  she  sat  among  the  branches,  flushed, 
breathing  hard,  her  resolute  eyes  on  him  as 
he  came  toiling  up  the  bank. 

For  a  moment  they  remained  mute,  strug- 
gling for  breath,  watching  one  another. 
She  had  broken  off  a  dead  branch  and 
held  it  tightly,  one  arm  clasping  the  tree 
trunk. 

"  Do  you  think  me  quite  mad,"  he  gasped 

"just  beeause  in  my  joy  at  seeing  you  I 
kicked  over  that  ironing  board  and  maltreated 
a  pan  of  shelled  peas?  Oh,  if  you  had  only 
understood  how  I  loathe  flatirons  and  givm 
peas!  If  you  had  only  understood  how  long 
I've  been  obliged  to  eat  my  own  cooking  and 
iron  my  own  shirts  you  would  not  have  run 
away  like  this !  " 

She  stared  at  him ;  slowly  the  flicker  of  fear 
became  absorbed  in  the  growing  illumination 
of  astonishment. 

"  Y-you  were  d-dreadfully  abrupt,"  she 
said.  "  You  did  not  appear  p-perfectly  ra- 


220          Sonic   I.inlics   in 


tional.      I    had    only    come    to    collect    the 
rent— 

l  lu-  rent  ' 

"  Y   \«  ft.      I'm   \onr  landlady." 
Manners  gazed  up  at  her  hoprlr^K    per- 
plexed 

"  1  rented  that  ehatenu  from  somebody 
named  I-..  M.  I  '.arris."  he  said.  "  Are  yon  K. 
M.  Harris?" 

lira  Millicent  Barris.  I  live  at 
The  Towers.  I  —  my  father  jjavc  me  some 
farms  to  play  \\ith  on  my  birthday.  I  n 

1   to  be  cha>ed   up  a  tree   by    mx 
ant- 

Siiddenly.  in  the  nish  of  relief,  she  dropped 
her  sink.  ehiNprd  the  tree  trunk  \\ith  h«»tli 
arms,  and,  lax  in^  her  head  a-amM  it,  closed 
her  e 

"  1  )on't  !      I  •    don't  !  "  ,  \<  lainicd 

Mar-  1    -imply  cannot   endure  to  see 

an\     xxoinan     xxeeping    up     in    a    tree     like 
that  -  " 

*  I   c-ean't   lu-lp  it."  slu-  fal'  I've  got 

to.      If  —  if    I    \\ere    not    in    >ueh    p-p-pe? 
health    my    n-nervi-s    emild    m-ver   have    stood 
\xhat    xou'x-c  d«  4 

"  Do  you  mean  my  running  after  you,  or 


Ex  Machina  221 

the  sight  of  me  ironing?"  he  asked,  morti- 
fied. 

"  B-both.  O  dear — O  dear — I'm  so  quiv- 
ery  and  weak!  I — I'd  better  get  out  of  this 
tree  before  I  fall  out.  I  don't  know  how  I 
ever  got  up  here;  I  feel  like  a  scared  and 
whimpering  kitten  who  has  climbed  too  high 
and  can't  get  back." 

She  bent  her  pretty  head  and  peeped  down 
at  the  ground  between  her  swinging  feet. 
The  ground  seemed  very  far  away. 

"  O  dear,  O  dear,"  she  said,  bewildered ; 
"  it  is  my  first  tree  experience,  and  I  don't 
know  how  it  is  done !  Do  you  ?  " 

"  A  slow  slide,"  he  suggested,  "  is  the 
proper  method.  You  first  grasp  the  tree — 

"How?" 

He  waved  his  hands  as  though  repeating  a 
scientific  formula : 

"  You  first  grasp  the  trunk  with  both 
arms  and  both  knees ;  then,  closing  both 
eyes  and  clasping  the  stem  of  the  tree  firmly, 
you  descend  with  a  very  slow  and  sedate 
slide." 

"  It— it  isn't  very  dignified,  is  it  ?  " 

"  It  can  be  accomplished  with  dignity,"  he 
said.  4<  Ironing  shirts  and  shelling  peas  are 


222         Some  Ladies  in  7/</.v/r 

not  the  ideals  of  manly  sport,  yet  I  managed 
to  engage  in  both  without  'rum 

and  self-respect.  It  dep<  •  upon  \\liat 

xou're  doini:.  Imt  upon  your  mental  attitude 
t«\\ard  x.mr  ta>k.  If  one  understands  h<>\\  to 
do  it,  one  can  stand  on  one's  head  \\itlnmt 
loss  of  dignitx . 

She  seemed  to  be  rather  impre»ed  l>\  his 
philosophy;  she  leaned  over,  looked  at  the 
trunk,  and  erossed  her  ankles. 

"  ritimateh."  rift  -aid.  "  1  -hall  he  obliged 
to  descend,  and  1  may  as  xxell  do  it  n»»\v. 
\\«'iild  \«»u  mind  \\alkini;  out 

WCK)« 

1  le  started  at  once. 

"  B-but  who  is  to  cateh  me  if  I  f-fall?  "  she 
added. 

He  came  back. 

"  Hourver.  I  must  take  my  chances,"  she 
continued,  looking  fearfully  at  the  ground; 
and  he  turned  and  started  toward  the  <»; 

"And  if  I  fall  and  am  dreadfully  injured,  it 
will  not  be  my  fault " 

He  hah 

'  It  will  be  your  fault,"  she  said  with  tremu- 
lous vindietiveness,  "for  cha-m-  me  up  a 
And — I  can't  come  down  as  long  as 


Machina  223 


you  are  there ;  I  wont  come  down  as  long  as 
you  are  not  there.  The  problem,  then,  is  how 
to  i^et  me  out  of  this  tree;  and  /  can't  solve 
it.  Can  \ «  m  ?  " 

He  stared  up  at  her  for  a  moment ;  then 
clasped  his  head  in  his  hands,  struggling  with 
the  problem. 

"  The  thing  to  do,"  he  said,  "  is  to  use  logic. 
Reason,  not  emotion,  solves  problems.  Let 
us  begin  at  the  very  beginning,  if  we  are  to 
find  some  sort  of  a  solution— 

"  The  beginning,"  she  said  coldly,  "  was 
when  you  ran  after  me ' 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  The  beginning  be- 
gan with  your  running  away  from  me.  I 
couldn't  have  run  after  you  if  you  hadn't 
first  run— 

"  No,  that  is  not  the  beginning/'  she  in- 
sisted. "  First  of  all  I  saw  you  ironing 

"  Wait,  please!  First  of  all  I  was  ironing, 
even  before  you  saw  me.  Let  us  be  logical 
and  accurate,  if  we  are  going  back  to  the 
fountain  head  of  cause  and  effect." 

"  If  we  are  going  back  as  far  as  that,"  she 
said,  "  let  us  go  still  farther.  To  begin,  then, 
you  rented  my  cottage — 

"  One  moment,"  he  begged ;  "  there  was  a 


224          Some   Ladies   in 


cause  for  my  renting  that  cottage;  and,  ii  we 
are  going  back  to  the  real  beginning  of 
things,  let  us  begin  \\ith  that." 

"I  don't  see."  shi-  sai«l.  astonished.  "why 
\our  nmtives  for  renting  that  cottage  could 
interest  me.  or  have  any  important  bearing  on 
the  problem  of  getting  me  out  of  tl 

He  stood  very  still,  silenced  —  »  not  by  her 
logic,  but  by  the  Midden  impact  of  a  neu  : 

Looking  down  at  him  she  \\aited.  s\\  ing- 
ing  her  crossed  feet  gently.  She  was  no 
longer  afraid  of  him  or  of  her  situation.  She 
had.  at  his  fir>t  \\ord,  recognized  in  him  the 
sort  of  man  she  had  been  accustomed  to.  It 
had  been  only  the  mechanical  and  mental  dif- 
ficulty of  stopping  her  mad  stampede  that 
had  landed  her  up  a  tree  before  she  even  un- 
derstood how  she  got  there  —  a  purely  auto- 
matic flight,  obeying  physical  impulse  before 
the  brain  could  telegraph  —like  a 

locomotive  overrunning  the  Matum  in  spite  of 
the  bral 

Almost  from  the  first,  looking  down  at  him 
from  her  perch,  fear  had  tied,  leaving  a  faint 
reaction.  Then  calm  confidence  returned  ;  she 
examined  him  leisurely,  perfectly  convinced 
of  her  safety. 


Ex  Machina  225 

And  now  she  looked  down  from  aloft  with 
a  smile  almost  friendly,  encouraging  him  to 
mental  effort. 

"  How  to  get  me  out  of  this  tree,"  she  re- 
peated. "  You  got  me  into  it.  I  can't  come 
down  if  you're  not  here;  I  won't  come  down 
while  you  </;v  here.  You  got  me  up.  Logic 
must  help  me  down.  How  is  it  to  be  done, 
Mr.  Manners?  Surely  not  by  discussing  the 
motives  \\hkh  iinhuol  you  to  rent  my  cot- 
tage." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  that  is  exactly  tlu  way  to 
begin  our  logic." 

"  But  that  happened  before  you  ever  even 
saw  UK- — 

"No,  it  didn't." 

She  opened  her  gray  eyes  wider. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  me  before  you  glanced 
up  from  your  ironing?"  she  asked,  surprised. 

"  Yes." 

"When?" 

"  Early  this  spring." 

"Where,  Mr.  Manners?" 

"  Coming  out  <>t  \<>ur  house  on  Fifth  Ave- 
nue, opposite  the  Lenox  Club." 

"  O-h !  .  .  .  Yes,  I  live  there.  .  .  .  Where 
were  you  ?  " 


226         Some  Ladies  In  Haste 

"  In  the  club  window — hatching  deviltries!  " 
he  said  bitterly. 

"  I  >-d-deviltrie>  !  "  she  repeated.  "  \Y-\\hat 
in  tin-  \\orld  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Mann*  : 

"I've  14  "t  to  go  farther  back  than  that 
>l»rinu  day  to  tell  you,"  he  said.  "Shall  I 
do  h 

Amazed  at  the  pallor  and  desperation  in  his 
-In-  took  a  firmer  clasp  of  tin  tree  trunk 
ami  ^a/i-d  do\\n  at   him. 

MIl  it  vrr\   awful — what  you  are  going  to 
till  me?  "  she  asked. 
Wry.     Shall  I?" 

"  No.     N  . 

"  No.  Yes.  I — if  it  becomes  too  dreadful 
for  me  to  hear  I  —  I'll  tell  you  w-when  to 

StO] 

Well,  then,"  he  said  hoarsely,  "  I'm  the 
most  terrible  kind  of  a  man  you  ever  heard 
of." 

"  O-oh ! "  she  echoed  faintly,  but  expect- 
antly. 

1  I'm  horrible,  monstrous;  I'm  a  menace 
to  decency,  a  peril  to  civilization! " 

Y-you  don't  look  it,  M-Mr.  M-M-Man- 
ners." 


Ex  Machina  227 

"  That's  the  sickening  part  of  it.  I'm  a 
decent-looking  fellow.  Don't  you  think  so?  " 

"  Y-yes." 

"  With  agreeable  bearing  and  presence  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed." 

"  The  sort,  in  fact,  to  whom  you  are  accus- 
tomed in  New  York  ?  " 

"  P-perfectly.  I  —  anybody  would  be  in- 
diiifd  to  like  you,  Mr.  Manners." 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said  gloomily.  "  That  is 
the  awful  phase  of  it.  What  I  look  like  is  one 
thing ;  what  I  am  is  this :  A  man  once 
wealthy,  now  ruined ;  once  popular,  now 
feared;  once  innocent,  now  guilty  !  " 

"  Mr.  Manners!    IV hat  are  you  guilty  of?  " 

He  said :  "  Do  you  believe  that  it  is  pos- 
sible for  a  human  being  to  possess  himself  of 
infernal  powers?  Do  you  believe  it  possible 
that  a  man  can,  by  mere  exercise  of  will, 
project  mental  waves  which  are  capable  of 
molding,  modifying,  changing,  completely 
transforming  the  characters  and  desires  of 
other  people  ?  " 

"  No !  "  she  said  breathlessly. 

"  Yet  the  fact  remains  that  I  can  do  and 
have  done  it.  Ten  people,  on  whom  I  tried 
my  first  experiments,  prove  the  statement. 
10 


228          Some  I.inlics  in   ffiisfc 

One  by  one  I  gave  them  absent  treatment  to 
correct  deficiencies   of  character.     Thc\    had 
not  the  slightest    idea   of  \\hat    1    \\as   d« 
indeed,  five  of  them   I  did  not  even  kno\\   1>\ 
sight  when  I  undertook  their  cases." 

He  paused,  passing  his  hand   wearily   0 
his  brow.     Tlie  j^irl  looked  do\\n  at  him. 
cinated. 

"Fortunately."  he  continued,  "nine  01: 
my    ten     victim-  come     t<»     no     harm 

through  my  villain*  »u-  middling.  Indeed. 
strangely  enough,  they  have  found  their 
heart  -Hilled  thnmiji  \\hat  1  did  for 

them — these  nine  victims  of  m\    hideou- 
periments.     Heaven  \vas  ind.  me. 

even  in  piiiiishin.i:  me  1 
crushed,  bewildered,  penniless  as  I  am,  for  I 
have  found  \vn  a^ain  !  " 

"  Found  tnr^     A^ain  "" 

"  Yes.     Listen  to  me.  and  \  me  that 

you  will  not  fall  out  of  that  tre<-  in  \<>ur  amaze- 
ment and  indignation.  \\'ill  you  promise. 
Miss  Barri 

She  instinctivelv  clasped  the  trunk  tightly 
with  both  arm-  Yes,  go  on,"  she  whis- 
pered. 

'  Then — do  you  ever  rake  hay,  milk  cows, 


Ex  Machina  229 

shell  peas,  fry  steaks  ?  Do  you  ?  Or  ever  eat 
pancakes  and  maple  sirup  ?  Speak !  " 

"  Y-yes ;  I  do  all  those  things,  Mr.  Man- 
ners." 

"  Did  you  ever  do  them  before  that  day  in 
early  spring  when  I  saw  you  entering  your 
carriage  ?  Did  you  ?  " 

"  N-no." 

"Do  you  like  to  do  these  things — now?" 

"  Y-yes." 

"  Didn't  you  actually  hate  the  very  idea  of 
doing  such  things  before  that  day  in  early 
spring?  " 

"  Y-yes." 

"  Then,"  he  demanded  solemnly,  "  why  do 
you  do  'em  now?  Why  do  you  like  to  do 
'em?  Why  do  you  now  desire  pie?  Why 
do  you  digest  it?  Why  are  you  physically 
healthy  and  vigorous  and  mentally  wholesome 
and  happy?  Why  are  your  arms  no  longer 
as  thin  as  pipe  stems,  and  why  are— 

"  Mr.  Manners !  What  do  you  mean  to 
convey  to  me  by  this  very  p-p-personal  in- 
ventory of  my  physical  and  mental  charac- 
teristics?" 

"  You  know,"  he  said  gravely. 

"  No,  I  don't  know.     If — if  you  mean  to 


230         Sonic  I.utiics  in   I  L: 

try  to   frighten   me   into  believing   that    \  «»u 
are  responsible  —  that  \«>u  —  did  —  this  — 

"  Y,,u  kiiou   1  did." 

"  I    don't!      I    d.m't!      I'm  not  one  of  your 
—  your  dreadful  nu-ntal  experiments.  even  if  I 
have   suddenly    found    p 
pink  sunbonnets  and  g-g-gingham  d 
Even  if  I  have  found  —  some\shat  suddenly  — 
that   it's  p-p-plcasant  an 
ha\   and  set  hens  and  ni-in-milk  the  l-l-lo 


1  'ink-cheeked.  defiant.  she  clung  to  her  tree 
trunk,  facing  him  with  tremulous  courage. 

"  You  didn't  do  all  this  to  mo!"  she  re- 
peated. "I  am  not  afraid  that  you  did! 
Y«>u  couldn't  have  done  it,  even  if  you  had 
been  wicked  enough  to  try:  :Mn't  do 

it  no\\.  r\ni  if  \MU  tried  \\ith  all  \  "iir  mi^ht." 

"Tried  \\hat?"  he  asked  gently,  f..r  the 
girl  was  becoming  very  nuu  h  r  \rited. 

'    \uythinv:  —  tried  am  tiling  .  MI  me        n; 
nit.    in  m\>elf.    >lide   down   tin-    • 

for  example!     I  —  I   defy   you   t«»   make   me 
do  . 

"  Do  you  really  challenge  r. 

"  Yt*t    t  dOfl      I    don't   believe    in  your  |> 
I    u.-n't    believe   in    them.      If  you  could 


"  'I  defy  you  to  make  me  do  it ! '  ' 


Ex  Machine  231 

exercise  all  kinds  of  powers,  you  wouldn't 
look  so  helpless  and  perplexed  when  I  tell 
you  to  get  me  out  of  this  tree." 

"  But — but  you  refuse  to  come  down  while 
I'm  here,  and  you  refuse  to  come  down  if  I'm 
not  here/' 

"Certainly  I  do!"  she  said  tauntingly; 
"  but  that  ought  not  to  perplex  a  gentleman 
of  such  unusual  and  occult  talents  as  you 
possess.  Mr.  Manners,  the  problem  remains, 
I  believe,  to  get  me  out  of  this  tree.  You 
have  employed  logic;  you  have  gone  back 
months  to  begin,  logically,  at  the  beginning. 
Now,  if  you  please,  either  your  logic,  or  your 
— ahem ! — magic,  ought  to  start  me  earth- 
ward. Proceed  !  " 

He  looked  up  at  tin-  bright,  flushed  face 
above;  she  returned  his  gaze  out  of  1u  r 
pretty  gray  eyes.  Her  mouth  was  maliciously 
sweet ;  the  two  freckles  on  her  nose  adorable. 

"  There's  a  way  to  get  you  out  of  a  tree," 
he  said.  His  voice  was  not  quite  steady. 

"  Thank  you  " — mockingly — "  I  am  wait- 
ing to  be  wafted  to  earth." 

"  I  want  to  ask  you  a  question  first" 

"  Dozens,   Mr.   Manners.     Begin." 

"  You  will  not  be  offended?  " 


232          Some  Ladies  in   Haste 


"  I  Impt  not*1 

**  I  mean  if  no  offense  is  meant?" 

"  No.  .  .  .  What  is  the  first  question  —  be- 
fore you  waft  me  to  earth  ?  " 

"  Are  you  engaged  to  be  married  to—  to— 
a  farnu  i 

"  No.  I  suppose  you  do  not  mean  to  be 
impertinent." 

"  You  know  I  don't,"  he  said,  looking  IK  r 
so  straight  in  the  eyes  that  a  deeper  tint  of 
color  crept  into  her  tanned  clier! 

"  No,"  she  said  slo\\l>.  "  I  know  you  could 
not  be  rude.  What  is  thr  nr\t  <|iie>tion? 
You  have  the  |>rivilcge  of  a  do/< 

"   Then  —  7it>///</  you  marr\   a  tan* 

"  I  —  why  —  if  I   were  in  love  —  \ 

M  A  poor  on. 

She  dismissed  tin-  fmaneial  aspect  of  love 
with  a  shrug  of  her  pn  tt\  >houlders. 

"  I  see."  lie  said  with  a  catch  in  his  breath 
—  "  poor  or  rich,  you'd  marry  a  farmer,  if  you 
loved  him." 

She  nodded,  surveying  him  serenely. 

"  You  —  ah  —  perhaps,  prefer  a  farmer  to  a 
man  of  any  other  —  ah  —  profession?"  He 
strove  to  command  his  voice,  but  it  shook. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  said. 


Ex  Macliina  233 

"Do  you?" 

"  Y-yes,"  very  cautiously. 

He  waited  a  moment  to  control  his  voice, 
then :  "  /  am  a  farmer/'  he  said. 

"Yes?"  innocently. 

[<  Yes,  I  am.  I  have  a  cow,  some  accursed 
vegetables,  and  a  stray  hen  or  two.  Where 
the  hens  are  now  I  don't  know;  but  they're 
mine  if  they're  still  on  earth.  Besides  that, 
I  have  some  mining  shares  worth  nothing 
now,  but  which  air  due  to  rocket  skyward  in 
about  a  year.  Other  assets  are  a  few  dollars, 
unlimited  ambition  and  energy,  some  badly 
burnt  and  worse  starched  shirts,  and  no  debts. 
I — I  wish  to  a>k  \  on  .something." 

"  Ask  it,"  she  said,  dangerously  calm. 

He  moistened  his  lips,  touched  his  forehead 
with  his  handkerchief,  and,  looking  directly  at 
her,  said  : 

"  I  never  before  saw  a  woman  whom  I 
could  care  for."  And,  being  truthful,  he  add- 
ed, "  I  mean  as  much  as  I  care  for  you.  I 
could  easily  fall  desperately  in  love  with  you. 
You  could  make  me  love  you  without  try- 
ing. A  smile — the  first  glimmer  of  friend- 
liness in  your  gray  eyes  would  do  it.  It  will 
probably  happen,  anyway." 


234          Some   l.inlics  in   Hustc 

She  \\aitol. 

in  you  ever — learn  to  can    t<>r  a  man 
like  me?"  he  askol. 

-  No,    Mr.    Manin-r 

"  If-  if  \<»u  could,  I'd  j^t't  you  out  of  that 
tree  in  a  moment.  ' 

"Tin1  prirr  is  !<>»  r\ci»ivr  ;  1  prrtYr  the 
tree,  Mr.  Mann* 

"    lillt  —  J4«)«»d     IlravrllN!       If    \«m    don't    lll.i! 

r\    inr.   a    fanm-p  /»n»  /«;;;.,    \..u   an-    lial' 
marry   soinr  ^rnuiur  and   drradful  ohiu-uhi- 
.amhlin.L;    ru 

*  Mr.   Man: 

"  I    ran't   lu-lp  it  !      I    ktu>:c\  "  li.  -ncd 

•  U--p«-ratrl\.      "  I   trratrd   \  oil  for  that  ;   I 
\«»n  al»riit  tn-atmrnt  l«»r  it!     I  su^^cstcd  that 
\«>u  marr\    a   fannrr." 

"That    \\a-    \n\.    M  r\    imjunlcnt    «>f 
slir   >aid   !i«.tl\  ;  "  Iwt    I    1.  .idy   told  you 

that  I  refuse  to  believe  in  your  poun-  I 
di-fy  you  to  inthu-iHH-  mr  1>y  inrntal  sugges- 
tion !  I — I  challenge  you  to  make  me  do  one 
single  thing  through  the  exercise  of  mental 
suggestion ! " 

Her  angry,  beautiful  face  flushed  as  she 
spoke ;  she  bent  forward  on  her  perch,  brav- 
ing him. 


Macliuia  235 


"  I  do  love  you,"  he  said  obstinately. 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  she  retorted.  t4  Besides, 
it's  ridiculous  to  chase  a  girl  up  a  tree  and 
sit  at  the  bottom  and  make  love  to  her." 

"  Ridiculous  or  not,"  he  said,  "  I  do  love 
you.  I  love  you  enough  to  risk  being  ridicu- 
lous. I  love  you  too  much  even  to  think  of 
mentally  suggesting  that  you  love  me  a  little 
in  return." 

"  That  is  perfect  nonsense,  Mr.  Manners  !  " 

"  N-nonsense  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  Just  as  though  you  could 
mentally  influence  me  to  love  you,  if  you 
tried  for  a  year!  " 

"  I  could  do  it  in  a  minute!"  he  exclaimed 
hotly. 

"  And  I  defy  you  !  "  she  retorted.  "  Here 
I  am,  sitting  upon  this  branch,  unable  to  get 
away.  Try  it,  Mr.  Manners  !  " 

The  bright,  excited,  and  scornful  challenge 
stirred  him  to  excitement. 

u  You  don't  know  what  you  are  risking," 
he  said.  "  I  —  I  could  make  you  care  for  me 
if  I  wished  to.  I  could  get  you  out  of  that 
tree  before  you  knew  it,  if  I  wished  to.  Don't 
challenge  me  again,  unless  you  wish  to  risk 
more  than  you  desire  to." 


Sonic    Ladies   in    Haste 


She  laughed  mockingly  and  swung  her  feet 
to  and  fro. 

"  I  give  you  full  permission  to  try,"  she 
said. 

I  Ie   \\a-   >ilrnt. 

"  Shame  !  "  she  added,  "  to  let  such  a  chal- 
lenge pa 

Still  lu-  \\as  >ilnit. 

"And,  if  you  can  succeed  in  taking  me 
down  out  of  thi>  tree  \\ithout  my  consent  or 
knowledge."  she  rmitinurd.  "I  i^ivr  \«>u  full 
l>rrmissi<m  t«>  make  love  to  me  —  and  make 
me  fall  <K  s  in  love  with  you  —  des- 

•rlv.  unrra^.  Miin-K.  blindly.  Beside-.  1 
could  not  help  fallini:  violently  in  love  \\ith 
a  man  \\lm  really  could  do  such  thin 

"Even     \\ith     wir?"    he    asked,    look 

straight  up  at  her. 

"  Kveii  with  yon." 

"  \  «  T\    \\ell."  he  said,  turning  a  trifle  pale. 

1  am  going  to  begin.  Please  place  both 
arms  rather  tightly  around  the  trunk  of  that 
tre< 

She    laughed    disdainfully,    but    compl 
He  stood  very  still,  rigid,  silent,  looking  up 
at  her.     For  a  f«  nds  she  wat.  lu  <1  him. 

scornfully  confident  ;  then  his  features  seemed 


Ex  Machina  237 

to  blur  a  trifle,  and  she  opened  her  eyes 
wider.  But  the  face  and  figure  below  grew 
vague  and  hazy. 

"  Hold  very  tight,"  he  said  gently.  And 
she  heard  his  voice  and  obeyed,  dazed. 

"  I  think — I  think  you  are  sleeping,"  he 
said.  She  did  not  answer;  she  no  longer 
heard  him. 

Then  he  sprang  into  the  branches  and 
climbed  swiftly  upward,  and  very,  very  gently 
unclasped  her  arms  from  the  tree  trunk.  She 
was  not  heavy,  but  the  descent  was  slow  and 
perilous  as  he  climbed  lower  and  lower,  step- 
ping from  limb  to  limb,  his  slumbering  bur- 
den clasped  tightly  in  one  arm. 

At  last  he  hung  by  his  free  arm  from  the 
lowest  branch,  looked  down  coolly,  and 
dropped. 

And  now  she  lay  back  against  the  base  of 
the  tree,  eyes  closed,  pink  sunbonnet  fallen 
back,  adorable  lips  half  parted,  her  tanned 
hands  lying  limp  in  her  lap. 

Manners  stood  watching  her. 

"  I  could  love  you,"  he  murmured,  "  too 
much  to  make  you  care  for  such  a  man  as  I 
am.  I — I  do  love  you,  and  I  leave  your  heart 
as  free  of  love  as  when  I  first  laid  eyes  on 


238          Sonic   Ladies  in   Haste 

\ou.  ...  So  you  may  wake  now — gently — 
happily  —  care  free,  heart  five.  .  .  .  Wake, 
Ethra!" 

Slowly  the  gray  eyes  unclosed.  Meeting 
hi*  they  opened  wider,  languid.  Miiiling.  un- 
afraid. Then  she  raided  her  body  on  one  arm. 
looked  around,  upward,  then  turned  her  head 
suiltls.  eye*  dilating  and  clearing  with  com- 
prehension. 

The  next  moment  n-   to  1 

cast   a    swift    glance    up    into    the    hr.nu  In •-. 
caught   her  breath,  and.  facing  him,  took  an 
un>tead>      >tcp     l»ackv.ard     I 
trunk. 

"  You — you  did  do  it !     -lu   gasped. 
•  es,      You  mu>t  not  be  afraid." 

'    I      I  am." 

*  ^"oll  need  not 

"I  inn\  I  — I  dared  y»ti  to  do  it.  You 
have  done  it.  I  d-dared  you  to  m-make  me 
love  you." 

"  I  did  not  do  //; 

"  O-oh !  —  I   don't   know  —  I   don't   know 
whether   you   have  done   that  or  not!"  she 
cried.     "  You  could  have;  I  defied  you  to;  I 
offered  to  let  you.     If  you  did  not  do  it, 
did  you  not  ?  " 


Ex  Macliina  239 


"  Because  I  love  you." 

"  Then  why  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Because  I  love  you." 

"  Oh !  " 

She  looked  at  him,  still  a  little  dazed,  still 
frightened,  uncertain. 

He  said  in  a  low  voice :  "  Do  you  now  be- 
lieve all  that  I  told  you  ?  " 

«  Yes— oh,  yes,  I  do." 

"All?" 

"  Yes,  all." 

"  About  the  mental  treatment  I  gave  you 
on  that  fatal  day  last  spring  when  I  saw  you 
entering  your  carriage  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  believe  it." 

"  And — and  that  you  still  stand  in  peril  of 
marrying  a  farmer — a  thing  of  overalls,  whis- 
kers, and  pitchforks ! — an  absurd  and  revolt- 
ing parody  on— 

"  D-don't  let  me !  "  she  stammered,  moving 
impulsively  toward  him.  "  You — you  won't 
let  me  do  such  a  thing,  will  yoUj^Mr.  Man- 
ners ?  "  still  advancing,  both  little  hands  out- 
stretched. 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  he  said  miserably.  "  I 
can't  reverse  mental  treatment ;  I  don't  know 
how.  All  I  can  do  is  to  modify  it  in  a 


240         Sonic  Ladies  in   I  In 

measure  by  directing  it  more  definitely  toward 
some  designated  individual." 

"Then — then  d-direet  it  toward  s-s-some 
individual.  Mr.  Manners.  Don't  leave  me 
with  this  promiscuous  rural  terror  to  haunt 
IIH-!  D«m'i  go  away  and  leave  me  this  indefi- 
nite' llOITOr — inenarrd  by  the  mtiiv  clodhop- 
ping  population  of  the  I'nitt  d  Sta! 

"  What  shall  I  do?"  he  asked,  profoundly 
affeetcd  h\  her  diMnax. 

"  Oh,"  she  pleaded,  as  he  gently  took  her 
out>tretelu-d  and  pathetic  hand-.  "  it  is  the 
horrid  uncertainty  that  1  cannot  endure.  You 
have  defined  me  for  the  h-h-hride  of  some 
farmer.  If  I've  g-g-got  to  marry  a  far 
I  want  to  know  what  lie's  like,  whether  he 
wears  his  coat  in  the  house,  whether  he 
USd  a  knife  for  a  fork!  <  >h— oh.  this  is  too 
dreadful — too— too  dreadful!  I  —  I'm  afraid 

—afraid! 

She  broke  down,  innocently  concealing  her 
Mainrd  fare  in  the  first  convenient  nook 
that  offered.  It  ehaneed  to  be  the  scorched 
shirt  front  of  Mr.  Manners.  He  thought!- 
put  both  arms  around  her.  Then  they  both 
became  absent-minded,  for  he  mentioned  her 
name  several  times  as  "  Kthra."  and  "  Sweet- 


Machina  241 


heart,"  and  her  arms  lay  most  carelessly 
around  his  neck,  and  she  offered  no  explana- 
tion of  the  phenomenon. 

"  D-darling !  " 

"  W-what  ?  "  she  sobbed,  although  she  had 
never  before  answered  to  such  an  indefinite 
cognomen. 

"  D-do  you  hate  me?" 

"  N-no." 

"  I— I  didn't  know,"  he  faltered. 

"  W-well  /  do,  and  I  don't." 

With  which  strangely  paradoxical  observa- 
tion she  managed  to  find  her  handkerchief 
and  dry  her  tears.  Then  she  raised  her  head 
and  looked  up  at  him. 

A  curiously  absent-minded  expression  crept 
into  their  eyes;  their  actions,  too,  were  ut- 
terly illogical.  However,  they  said  absolutely 
nothing.  They  couldn't. 

At  last  her  pretty  lips  found  an  opportunity. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  said,  "  how  we  can  do 
such  things  ...  as  though  we  had  been  ac- 
customed to  them.  .  .  .  Dear,  you  had  no 
need  to  employ  your  talents  on  me ;  I — :I 
wasn't  really  afraid  to  come  down ;  I  was  only 
afraid  you'd  go  away  if  I  did.  .  .  .  And — and, 
dearest,  I — I  be — I  b-b-began  to  love  you  up 


242         Some  Ladies  in  Haste 

in  the  tree — a  little,  just  a  little.  ...  I  think 
I  am  a  trifle  tired.  .  .  .  Shall  \\e  -it  lure 
under  our  blessed,  blessed  tree?" 

He  looked  hopeles>l\    int»>  the  j^r.i 

"  Darling,"  he  said.  "1-1  ean't  -it  down  in 
— in  this  g-g-garment.  Don't  ask  me  to  go 
into  details,  only  the — the  starch " 

She  gazed  at  her  lover  in  infinite  pity.  I 
think  1  understand."  she  said  very  softly. 

And  together  they  passed  out  into  the  sun- 
shine, his  arm  around  her  \vai*t.  her  lovely 
head  nestling  against  his  shoulder. 


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